Winter Counts(87)

“Nathan!” I shouted. “Get down if you can! Knock the fucking chair over!”

“Uncle?” he called. “Is that you?”

“Kick it over!” I yelled. “Get your body down on the floor!”

I poked my head out and another bullet flew past me. Because of my limited ammo, I needed to wait for a clean shot. But when I saw Loco start moving from behind Nathan, I stood up and fired at him.

Another fucking miss. Loco ducked back down behind my nephew, still a sitting duck in that chair.

Three shots left in my Glock. I had the little revolver, but doubted it would do any good in here except at close range.

“Drop the gun, or I burn this rat’s face off!” Loco yelled.

I looked around the pillar. Loco now had the torch burning full blast just inches from Nathan’s face. In the light of the torch, I could see he was terrified. He’d moved his head back as far as he could go, still too damn close to the flame.

“You got one second, vato, or I burn him!”

What to do? I didn’t have a clear shot at Loco, and the other jackoff would shoot me the second I exposed myself.

“Hey!” I shouted. “Let the boy go, and I’ll toss you my gun. You guys can have me. Just let him go.”

It was quiet for a second. “Throw the gun first, then we untie him,” yelled Loco.

All of a sudden Nathan shouted, “Uncle, run! Save yourself! Get out of here!” He was telling me to save my own skin, even with a blowtorch burning inches from his face.

Fuck that.

“All right,” I shouted to Loco. “I’ll give you my gun if you promise to let him go. Okay?”

No answer.

“I’m throwing my gun now! Here it comes!” I slid my Glock down the floor toward Loco, but the second shooter darted out to grab it. He’d been hiding near an exhaust vent in the corner. I quickly pulled the Smith & Wesson revolver from my pocket and stepped out into the room. The guy was reaching down for the Glock. If he got it, it was game over. Without even thinking, I shouted, “Look!”

It was enough. He stopped for a moment and glanced up, giving me time to move in closer. I shot him at close range, right in the head, then I fired again. His brains splattered against the wall and on Nathan, still tied up in the chair.

“You okay?” I yelled to Nathan.

“I’m all right!” His voice was high and shaky with fear.

Wait, where’d Loco go? No movement that I could see. He’d been right behind Nathan when I shot his last backup, but now I didn’t know his position, and that put me in a bad spot. I could hear the sound of the wind, blowing through some broken window high above me, and my own breathing, choppy and rough.

A shot rang out, and I ducked down. Damn! Loco must’ve gotten his own fucking gun. I had no idea what kind he had, much less where he was now.

How many rounds were still in the revolver? Marie had fired it once, and I’d fired twice, so there must be two rounds left. I heard a rustling noise coming from the far end of the room, and that gave me enough time to brace the gun with both hands. I wasn’t sure if he’d come at me directly or try something else, but I had to be ready.

Loco jumped out and ran toward me, his gun already pointed in my direction. I got a clear look at him. He had a little goatee, and the hair on his face hadn’t grown back from where he was scarred. He was wearing a polo shirt with blue stripes, kind of like the ones my mother had bought for me at Kmart when I was a kid. His eyes were ferocious, and I felt his hatred. It was either him or me—one of us was about to die. I hoped it was him, but I knew there was a good chance it would be me.

I steadied the little revolver and waited for my shot. I saw him aim his gun, his eyes squinting in the hazy light. I sighted mine on his chest and fired.

Missed! The shot went wide, and I pulled the trigger again. The gun clicked harmlessly, telling me I was out of ammunition and shit out of luck. There should have been one more round, and I realized it hadn’t been fully loaded. Christ, how could I have made the fucking rookie mistake of not checking the cylinder?

Even before I heard the boom, I felt a stinging sensation in my shoulder. I’d been hit. I waited for the second shot, but it didn’t come. I looked over and saw Loco hunched over his gun, which must be out of ammo, or maybe jammed.

Either way, I still had a chance. A slim one. I tossed the revolver on the floor and looked for something to use. The cattle prod was lying on the ground by Nathan, so I ran over to him. I was picking it up when he yelled, “Uncle! Watch out!”

Loco was coming at me again, gun in hand, having fixed his problem. I took a quick glance at the cattle prod, fumbling for the power button. There was usually a safety switch, and I had to hope it had already been turned off.

Loco stopped and put his sights at me, expecting that I’d run for cover. Instead, I went straight at him, much to his surprise. I thrust the prod onto his chest, right on his blue polo shirt, and hit the trigger. The voltage coursed through his body, and he fell down, shaking.

I stood over him and shifted the hotshot directly on his neck, hoping it was strong enough to disable him forever. I hit the power again, and watched as fifty thousand volts surged through his nervous system. I kept it there until he stopped moving.

The pain in my shoulder was getting worse, much worse. It felt as if somebody’d stuck a hot grandfather rock from the sweat lodge directly into my body. And if the bullet had hit an artery, I was in deep shit. I noticed that my shirt was drenched with blood, which wasn’t good. I looked around for something to use as a bandage, anything I could stick on there to stop the bleeding.