Dead Money Run Read Online Free PDF Page A

It was the canary man who made a run at me just outside the prison gate a few days ago. The other one, who I called Bimbo, had walked down one of the paths to a pond looking for me. When he didn’t find me, he raised his hands and cupped them to his mouth.
    “Hey Malloy , we got your woman. Come out or we’re going to start to hurt her.”
    Button guys were not the brightest souls in the world. That’s why they do what they do for a living. They are not paid to think. Both of them had their backs toward me and were looking down one of the paths to another pond. But for Hilary, I could have easily shot them both.
    My plan was a simple one. After walking up behind the one holding Hilary, I was going to hit him as hard as I could. Then, as that guy went down, I was going to clear Hilary from the line of fire and put a bullet into the other one doing the yelling. That was my plan. Whatever happened, I wanted to take them alive. When I got two feet from the one holding Hilary, she turned. Seeing me, she yelled at the top of her lungs.
    “Lou, help me for God’s sake.”
    Before I could do anything, the one holding Hilary jerked his gun toward me. I shot him in the head as he turned, scattering his brains all over the car we had been driving and Hilary, along with everything else that was within a ten foot radius. The one with the face that looked like a pound of hamburger, turned like some actor in a crime movie, and began running back toward me holding his weapon in a two hand grip.
    Without any additional movement on my part , I shot him twice. Once in the right thigh and once in the shoulder joint of his left arm spinning him around like a top. The hollow point round nearly blew his arm off. When he hit the ground he started flopping around like a chicken, screaming at the top of his lungs. I walked over and told him to settle down or I was going to have to kill him. He stopped.
    “What’s your name fat boy?” I said. When he didn't answer I stepped on his injured shoulder. He started yelling again. After kicking him a few times he stopped.
    “I’m not going to ask again.”
    “Mickey.”
    “As i n Mickey Mouse,” I said.
    “No.”
    He was the talkative type.
    “Who sent you , Mickey? And if you tell me Walt Disney I’m going to put one in your other shoulder and you’re going to need someone real friendly to hold your unit while you pee.”
    “Some guy in Atlanta named Garcia.”
    “I don’t know anyone named Garcia. Why me and why Garcia,” I said.
    “I don’t know. I’m not paid enough to know either,” he said.
    His answer made some sense.
    “Where can I find these people in Atlanta?”
    “ Some club on a road called Howell Mill.”
    “ That the best you can do?” I said.
    He decided not to say anything more.
    “I get it, you’re a tough guy?”
    I shot him in the other shoulder. Can’t say I didn’t warn him.
    “Shit, I need a doctor.”
    “All in good time ,” I said. “Now, tell me again. Who sent you?”
    “Ah…Some guy named Garcia. Runs a club in Atlanta. That’s all I got.”
    Bending down, I said, “You sure?”
    “Yeah.”
    Standing up, I said, “What good are you,” and shot him in the head.
    “What the hell are you doing?” yelled Hilary.
    I was getting tired of the screaming. However, I could see Hilary’s point. She was jumping around hysterically while flicking brain matter off of her face and clothes. S he was not a happy camper.
    “Calm down,” I said. “You are alive. Count your bles sings.”
    “Fuck you , Malloy. You just made me an accessory to two murders.”
    “You keep it up , I may go for three,” I said. “We couldn't keep them alive. They knew it, but before we get into all that, help me get these bodies into that pond over there.”
    “ What are you planning to do with them?” Hilary asked.
    “It’s feeding time. The two gators in this pond will have a feast. Come on,” I said.
    Before I dumped the bodies into the pond, I stripped them of