"Hale and Hearty 2 (partial)" by Toni J Kaukinen

I didn’t stick around to see what the police and their consultants and technicians found at the torched tent site. There was no need to. One part of me wanted to, but my more logical part successfully suggested that I get out of there as soon as I could. So, I skirted past everyone and through the woods and began my hike two miles to the direction I hadn't come from. It seemed the best place to start: after all, that was where Skylar, Jenny and Joey were the most likely to be. They might’ve thought I’d take the shorter route to lodgings other than their own, which was basic logic.

I had no unpleasant encounters along the way, but the first Holiday Inn didn’t have any customers as I described. The next motel was far more fruitful.

“Hi, I’m here to pay the bill of some of my friends who are staying here,” I began. I said their first names, described them and was soon given a spare key to their room after I told a wild story of them having some threesome relationship. Funny how that goes.

Skylar, all dreadlocks and piercings, opened the door and immediately took two steps back – of the three of them, Jenny seemed the most likely to shoot me.

“Jesus H. Christ!” Joey yelled, in blind panic.

“Shut it,” I snapped. “I’m here because of what happened back at the camp site. You guys are in just as deep trouble as I am, so we’re…”

I stopped there, because Jenny was looking at me like she had back at the camp. Doubtless she knew what I was thinking. Duh.

Skylar glared at me for a while and then, once I acknowledged his presence, said: “#### you, Mercer. As far as we know, you got us into this mess.”

“Right, so I’d just waltz in and make myself a target for you guys?” I spat back, grinning. Jenny stiffened: she knew already at that time what I was and could do. I had no idea if she’d told the others.  Skylar stared.

I just shrugged and located the fridge with no fear of my safety; I liberated a bottle of water for myself. They waited as I drank, and I made sure they made no funny motions toward hidden guns. Once I was done with the water, I explained: “Look. They’re after me, mostly, but they’ll want to have a go at you too, on account of you knowing me somehow.”

Jenny was the first to answer: “He’s about right.” Joey and Skylar looked at her, took her words for truth and turned to glare at me.

But it was Skylar who broke the question that had puzzled me for some time. “Why, tell me, were you there killing that little bitch of a witch?” That question told me a lot more that I had imagined. I just stared at him for a while, then had another bottle of water, and lit a cigarette.

I thought, but not for long. “Can’t tell you the reasons behind what I tried to do, but I can tell you we’re all in deep #### now. What I can’t figure out is why you’re in the same swamp as me. You could’ve just snubbed me off like,” I snapped my fingers.

Joey twitched. Jenny stared at me blankly. Skylar’s face was a mask of nothing until he said: “We know that bitch.”

Well, that explained something.

“So what the hell is going on?” says I.

“War, if nothing else,” says Skylar.

“Oh, great.” I thought about it for a while. My commission was to take out a witch who was, to say the least, causing some trouble with the Russian mafia in the hinterlands (that’s how I see New Mexico) of the United States of America, and here’s someone telling me he’s a part of some other concerted effort to take care of the same problem. That’s how I saw it, and it only took a while to get the truth I thought was real out of him.

“So,” I said, staring at Skylar, “you were on the same gig as me. You wanted my target as dead as I did. So what was the whole scouts thing about?”

“Just a cover,” said Jenny, whom I glared daggers at. She squirmed, knowing me. I was somewhat glad she hadn’t told her associates what I was, exactly… or so I suspected.

I looked at Skylar and Joey. They stared back sheepishly, and I sighed. “Look, whatever happened, I guess you wanted to off her as well. I tried. Apparently, I screwed up. How about we try to be honest with each other and try to finish the job?” I wasn’t desperate, but I liked to be a professional. If I took payment for a job, I fulfilled my end. I hadn’t. The witch was still alive, and these people were going along the same lines, you know? They wanted her dead, for whatever reason. I just wanted to keep myself from being shot at again. Vest or not, being shot at is not fun even if your own skin is tough enough to handle a 38. caliber bullet, much more some buckshot at close quarters.

From the moment those guys smiled, I should have known something was up. But I didn’t. I won’t pretend I’m all that much of a genius, but there was something smug about their expressions that I should have seen. At the time I thought it was just them being glad I was helping them, on account of Jenny having told the two stooges exactly what I was capable of.

And, as it happens, we suddenly had something else to think about. A car careened to the motel parking lot, and then another. Just like me, the trio smelled fish. Whatever we needed to talk about, I was going to have to ask about it later, and the trio succinctly and quietly agreed. Like me, they were travelling light, at least now, and only stopped to take their duffel bags. By the sight and sound of it, I guessed they were packing, too.

I was the first to the door, my .45 in my hand, and snuck out. There was some shouting going on, mostly from the people bullying the guy at the register. I motioned for the troublesome three to follow me, and we almost made it down to the ground floor when I Joey bumped into a guy with a shotgun, sneaking up to the first floor.

They stared at each other for maybe a split second.

To my surprise, I felt a tingle in my spine just as the guy trying to scout the first floor went down.

I was, momentarily, lost for words. Joey kicked the unconscious man in the face, took his submachine gun and continued to trudge down. I simply stared, letting Jenny and Skylar past me. That was when the shooting began. The trio took shelter in the stairway, where as I was going straight by the book – my book, that is.

Eight assailants, one of them down thanks to whatever trick Joey pulled off. Armed? Yes, heavily. My position? First floor. Bad guys? Ground.  Two pretentious black SUVs.

I jumped over the railing, on top of a car I didn’t recognize (meaning, some European botchjob) and to my luck and misfortune, slipped and fell down on the pavement. It was lucky, because I narrowly missed being shot at again and full of misfortune because my gun disappeared under the truck next to the car I landed on.

I saw red, metaphorically. I wanted to see some for real, too. I was being shot at, people were screaming in the rooms and running about, and I had no idea what the hell the three idiots I was tentatively working with were doing. They weren’t shooting, that was for sure.

When the first bullet finally hit my shoulder, I lost it. I was fed up.

I screamed something so profane even my mother would have killed me for it, that much I remember. I also, when the attackers tried to box me, tore off the European car’s driver-side door and threw it straight at the SUV and the guy crouching in front of it.

The SUV got a pretty good dent in it. The guy in front of it? Take a guess. Not pretty.

I would have torn off another car door, but I somehow had the sense to simply hit the deck. I found my gun just near my head from under the truck. Shots were being exchanged, now: the wonder idiot trio finally began to shoot back and were, bless their tiny hearts, shouting at me to keep next to their truck.

I was suddenly glad I hadn’t torn anything off the truck. They probably weren’t glad to see it catch a few bullets, and the rest of the customers probably weren’t happy to be near a shooting gallery, but what was that to me, anyway?

All I knew was, with my gun in my hand and at least two – no, three, seeing that pudgy ol’ Joey gave someone a dentistry job with his new-fangled submachine gun – bad guys down, I was a happy man. The wound on my shoulder had already healed as well.

I shot the first SUV’s driver, to begin with. The M1911 is a curious beast. 45. caliber, very accurate and reliable, but it only holds so many bullets. It’s also damned heavy, but I can hardly tell the difference. All I know is, it’s saved my bacon plenty of times when things more sinister and annoying than simple gunmen have shown up. This time, I didn’t need to make sure I’d scored a kill. A simple gunman, that’s all. I would have prayed to several gods had I any faith in their infinite idiocies.

I stayed low and kept on firing to keep their heads down. Soon, the shooters decided they’d had enough. They’d lost five already. Joey, it seemed, was far more dangerous than I thought: he’d offed or disabled three already, whereas I’d only taken care of two. For all their intent, the gunmen were keener on keeping their heads on their shoulders, but that still didn’t stop Skylar from taking down one of them with a sawed-off.

In spite of everything, the trio seemed to be more trouble than I had imagined. Jenny never fired a shot, but between Skylar and Joey (especially Joey), there was a lot of hurt to bring to the world. Me, I was just acting as bait.

And acting as bait does have its downsides.

--

We tore off the parking lot in a hurry right after the SUV folks ran off, for the reason that the nearest cops were very close: at the camp site. Our attackers probably had the same idea, and I couldn’t blame them. Hell, I didn’t want any of this attention myself. I now had cops, the witch and possibly my employer rearing to go at me. I was only somewhat glad that I was with some sort of allies, now, even if they kept on annoying by asking, for example:

“How the hell do you do it?” Skylar. Jenny drove, Joey looked like he had a headache. I had noted Jenny patting Joey on the knee a few times in a very, very friendly way.

“Do what?” I snarled, looking down at myself. Then I realized what he was on about.

“I saw you get shot twice. You’ve got blood on you, but nothing…” he broke off. “You one of ‘em?”

Now it was me getting a headache. “Yes, damn it, I am. Now shut up. If you know about my likes, you know enough. I"m ####### surprised you didn’t have the brains to put two and two together earlier.”

Skylar sat there and shrugged. Joey took a sip of something from a flask. I guessed medicinal. “Look, I’ve only known one of you guys before.”

“I’ve known enough. I’ve also known enough people who read minds,” I looked toward Jenny and then, very pointedly, at Joey, “and kill by wishing it.”

Joey turned to glare at me. I wasn’t the least bit scared. Instead, I grinned back at them. “How’s that, assholes? You were all smug and funny yesterday. It’s my turn.”

“How’d you like to shut the hell up?” Jenny snarled, looking at me from the mirror. “Joey’s wounded, you ass.”

I shrugged. “No problem. I can fix it.”

That got their attention. Jenny had another look at me, as did the other two nimrods.

I shrugged again. “What? I thought you guys knew all about people like me,” I said, just to make them more likely to leave me alone when we were done cooperating. I really didn’t like them. I didn’t want them to like me either. You make friends, and then you’re in debt to them at least psychologically.

“We’re not comparing e-peen here,” Joey said angrily. “You’re who you are. We’re probably second rate in your eyes.”

I didn’t think so. Honestly! These kids could have taken on those eight guys on their own, and I never, read it again, never look down on people’s special abilities. I know what I can do. I always assume that the guy with some kind of special stuff might have something in store for me that I’ve never seen before. It’s kept me alive so far – that and downplaying my own stuff.

“Right,” I said. It wasn’t an admission; it was just something to fill the silence with.