Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Four

Wednesday, July 9, 8:15 P.M.

Marcus Greenland came out of the convenience store with a six-pack of beer and a bag of chips tucked under his arm. He had

seen the evening news. That reporter had talked about that bitch O’Neil – the one who had hid his wife and kids from him.

It figured the cunt had some kind of screwed-up past that made her hate men. Bitch.

But he’d be damned if he’d end up one of her victims. She’d not get her hooks into him.

‘Hey, are you looking to make some money?’ The raspy voice had Greenland whirling around. An old white guy stood directly

behind him. The stranger had come up behind him without making a sound.

Shit. There was a time when no one snuck up on Marcus Greenland. His heart hammering, he said, ‘What the hell do you want?’

The guy flashed a lopsided grin that was almost apologetic. ‘I’m looking for a strong man who can do some heavy lifting. I’ve

got a piano to move.’

Greenland glared at the old man. He had stooped shoulders, gray hair, and horn-rimmed glasses. The son of a bitch didn’t look

like he could lift a bag of sugar. ‘It’s after eight o’clock at night. Who the hell moves a piano late at night?’

The old man shrugged and smiled sheepishly as if he was embarrassed. ‘Hey, it’s not me. It’s my wife. She wants the damn thing

moved before a party she’s having this weekend. Personally, I think it looks fine where it is, but she wants it moved. Just

between you and me, my wife can be a pain in the ass when she doesn’t get what she wants, so I’m not arguing with her.’

‘Can’t live with ’em, can’t shoot ’em.’ Greenland laughed at his own joke.

The stranger hesitated before he laughed. He reached in his pocket and pulled out a hundred-dollar bill. ‘It won’t take more

than an hour of your time.’

Greenland relaxed when he saw the bill. He sure as hell could use the money. ‘Sure, why not?’

Behind the horn-rimmed glasses, blue eyes glistened. ‘Great. My van is over here.’

Greenland snagged a beer from the six-pack and popped it open. He took a long drink, savoring the cool liquid on his throat.

It would take at least the six-pack to get even a mild buzz. ‘You’ll bring me back to my car?’

‘Absolutely. I’ll have you back in less than an hour.’

Greenland followed the man to a simple white van. The vehicle looked nicked up and well used. ‘I figured you for a Volvo or

a minivan kind of guy.’

The man pulled keys from his pocket. ‘This is a rental. The trunk of my Audi is big but not big enough for a piano.’

Greenland was impressed. He liked nice cars. ‘An Audi. A-6?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Good car. It hugs the corners real well.’ He sipped his beer. ‘I used to sell cars.’

‘That so? What kind?’

They’d been used cars. ‘Lexuses mostly.’

‘Nice.’

The stranger slid behind the wheel as Greenland climbed in the passenger side. With a hundred bucks, he could buy his boys

that new video game and maybe a nice bottle of bourbon.

Thinking about the boys made him sad. The last time he’d seen the kids, he’d hit Jamal, because the kid wouldn’t stop talking.

The boy had fallen to the ground hard. Damien had cried and cowered. He had tried to console Damien, but the child had only

wailed. That had pissed Greenland off. He’d smacked the kid until he’d shut up.

Now, guilt gnawed at him. As their father, he wanted the boys to respect him, but he also wanted them to love him. That video

game would make it up to them.

The stranger fired the ignition. Greenland settled back in his seat. ‘Want a beer?’

‘No thanks. The wife doesn’t like it when I drink.’

No matter how rich you were a wife could bring you down. ‘Is she a real ballbuster?’

The stranger’s hands tightened on the steering wheel as he smiled. ‘You could say that.’ He pulled out onto the main road

and quickly merged onto the interstate. They headed west toward farmland bathed in the setting sun’s amber light.

Greenland took a long draft from the beer. The alcohol loosened him up. ‘My old lady busted my chops every time I had a drink too many.’ Just thinking about Aisha pissed him off. He killed the first beer and opened a second. ‘My

wife is a bitch. And full of lip. And now she’s taken my kids – my sons – and run off. It isn’t right that a man can’t see his own flesh and blood. I have a right to them.’

The man frowned. ‘Family is about the most important thing there is.’

‘Damn straight. Once I get me a real job, I intend on getting mine back.’

‘You said you sold cars?’

‘Did. Now it’s construction mostly. I’m also licensed to drive trucks.’

‘Well, then you should have no trouble getting work. Construction is booming.’

He couldn’t seem to hold a job. ‘Not so easy. All the outfits are run by pricks. That’s what I say.’

The stranger kept his gaze on the road. ‘Hey, don’t I know you from somewhere?’ He snapped his fingers. ‘You played college

football for Tech.’

Greenland grinned. ‘That’s right.’

‘Heard you went to the pros.’

‘Did for a while. Then I busted my right knee.’

‘Damn.’

Greenland took a long drink of beer. It still pissed him off the way that coach had cut him loose as if he were nothing.

‘That was one hell of a catch in the Sugar Bowl.’

‘Yeah.’ The memory of that one night made him proud. ‘I was a damn superstar that night.’

‘And rightly so.’

The stranger pulled off the highway and skirted down a rural road. Soon the lights of the interstate vanished. Only the headlights

of the van lit the way.

‘Is it going to be much farther?’ Greenland asked. He had to pee.

‘Just another mile or two.’

‘Okay.’ Greenland didn’t like the country. Full of wild animals, snakes and shit.

They pulled off the side road down a gravel driveway. Tall trees hovered over the road. Gravel popped under the tires. It

felt as if they’d driven off the face of the earth.

At the end of the road was a clearing. No house.

Greenland leaned forward. ‘Where the hell are we?’

The stranger put the car in park and shut off the engine. He pulled out a gun and pointed it at Greenland’s head. ‘The end

of the line. Get out.’

‘Hey, man, if this is about robbery, then you’ve got the wrong guy. I don’t have two damn nickels to rub together.’

He cocked the gun. ‘Get out.’

‘Like hell I will.’

Behind the horn-rims, the eyes that had looked old and weary hardened. The stranger fired past Greenland’s head and the cab

exploded with sound as the bullet shattered the passenger window. Broken glass nicked the back of Greenland’s skull. He dropped

his beer on the floor. ‘Shit!’

Fumbling for the handle, Greenland opened the door and lunged toward the ground. He didn’t know who the hell this freak was, but he wasn’t going to stick around and find out.

The hard rains from Monday had left the normally marshy ground even softer and he slipped in the mud. He struggled to stand.

He slipped again. The freak got out and walked around the side of the van.

Greenland pulled himself upright. He held up his hands in defense. ‘Hey, man, I don’t want no damn trouble. Just let me go

and we’ll call it even.’

The stranger looked taller, stronger now that he held his shoulders upright. ‘We are far from even.’

Panic knifed Greenland. ‘Who the hell are you?’

‘The Guardian.’ He said it with pride.

‘What the fuck does that mean?’

‘It means, I kill men like you.’

Greenland felt sick. ‘Hey, man, I ain’t never done anything to you.’

Moonlight glinted on the gun barrel. ‘You should have treated your wife with more respect.’ He fired. The bullet sliced into

Greenland’s left knee. Pain scorched through his body and he dropped to the cold, soft ground. He clutched his knee.

‘What the fuck!’ Greenland howled. Blood oozed out from under his fingers. ‘Did that bitch wife of mine send you to kill me?’

The Guardian loomed over him. ‘Don’t talk about the mother of your children like that.’

Greenland’s entire body burned. He tried to breathe through the pain like his coaches had taught him in college. Suck it up . But this pain was worse than any lineman’s tackle. He could barely think as he rolled on his side into a fetal position.

The Guardian stepped closer. Greenland’s hands were inches from his feet. This son of a bitch was going down. Moving quickly,

he grabbed the Guardian’s ankle and yanked as hard as he could. The Guardian fell backward and hit the ground hard, grunting

in pain as his ribs connected with a stump. The gun flew off into the darkness.

The Guardian’s pain gave Greenland satisfaction and hope. He started to crawl away. If he could get to the thick of the woods

around them, he could hide.

The Guardian wrestled his body to a sitting position. His breathing was ragged and labored. With a grunt, he started to crawl

around and look for the gun. He couldn’t find it.

Greenland clawed at the dirt and dragged his useless leg behind him. ‘Jesus, save me.’

Get to the woods. Get to the woods.

Greenland looked back and saw the Guardian chasing him. Determination had hardened the set of his jaw.

‘Oh, Jesus,’ Greenland muttered. His knee burned. His lungs ached with the effort of breathing.

The Guardian’s gait was uneven, but his two good legs easily overtook Greenland.

The Guardian kicked Greenland in the head. The blow cracked teeth and robbed him of the air in his lungs. Greenland rolled

on his back. He tasted blood and spit out a tooth.

Every nerve in his body screamed.

‘You’re not getting away from me,’ the Guardian growled. He went back to the van, retrieved a machete, then hurried back to again kick Greenland, this time in the side. Ribs

shattered. Greenland was near passing out when the Guardian planted his booted foot on his left forearm.

The Guardian ground the bottom of his boot into the tender flesh of Greenland’s arm. ‘Retribution is mine.’

‘Why?!’ Greenland shouted.

The Guardian didn’t answer. Instead, he raised the machete high over his head. The blade caught the moonlight before it came

down and sliced through the wrist’s flesh and narrow bone.

Greenland screamed until his throat felt raw. He pissed on himself. His own blood pooled around his body, dampening the ground

under him.

The Guardian held up the severed hand and howled with satisfaction.

That was Greenland’s last image before he passed out.