The Gauthieux Twins pt 4

Curio watched as a procession of five young black men exploded from the front door, jovially bellowing curses and laughing loudly.

         “Dey just be ballin', dawg.” She sneered to herself.  Immediately, she spotted a pair of twins leading the rowdy procession.  Two others split off to their two cars; one stayed behind and locked up, then joined the twins as they jumped into the passenger seats of a late model grey Honda Accord.  She scribbled notes furiously.  Impressions, clothing worn, the men’s’ heights gauged relative to the cars’ heights.  One twin had a pronounced limp, a stiff knee maybe.

         Radios erupted as the ignitions cranked.  They paused and gave each other directions or maybe just bullshit for a moment and then the group all drove down the road away from her.  Through the rifle scope, she tried to write down plate numbers as best she could.  She got partials on the two early leavers, and got all of the Accord's.

         “Five in the house.  All headed down to town at…one oh five.” She scribbled as she spoke aloud.  “House secured, so five should be the magic asshole number.”

         She secured the rear of the Bronco and finished off the Evian.  For a long while, she eye-balled the empty trailer she sat in front of, trying to decipher if someone was still using it for anything.  One more circuit around the trailer, this time checking the back door and all the windows, slackened any lingering dread of someone living or visiting there.

         Satisfied she could get into it without much hassle and had a good place to stash the Bronco behind it, she firmly made up her mind not to just sit on her ass in a motel and leave Moses to deal with five guys with a fat man and a cripple for backup.

         “Baby,” she started the Bronco and backed out. “If you don't need me ever again, it won't be because two useless coonasses got you killed.”

         She gunned the motor and sped back to Tupelo an hour before Moses was supposed to get back.



         “It's gonna’ be a hammer and anvil, Griz.  Simple hammer and anvil.”  Moses rode shotgun as Bertrand Fontenot drove back to the hotel to prepare and rest for the planned night attack.  “You and Pete stand out front.  I hit the rear and do it loudly.  I sweep it through and if anybody bolts out the front they find you a-waitin’ on ‘em.  It’s pitch and catch, really.  Except for they maybe all got guns shootin’ back”

         “How many you got up in der, Charles Bronson?” Grizzly wondered. “Dat house is pretty damn big for jess one ole boy with a rifle and a battle cry.”

         “Ain’t got no idea.  I only saw one fella’ head out back and feed the dogs.  Not one of our guys, though.  He the cousin I reckon.  He’s one jumpy fucker, too.  I’ma bet’ he knows all about a pile of money those two peckers ain’t ever earned before.”

         “He bettah' be fuckin jumpy.  He sittin in der wit a piss-pile of my money and knows how dem two got it, he bettah' move in with a friend-a his startin’ tonight or it's his ass, too.”

         “I heard three cars leaving about the time it was time for me to start making my way back.  Didn't have a shot on the front at all, though.  It’s just too many trees and leaves out back to see anything in the front.  We saw what we saw last night of the front.”

         “You said dogs?  How many dogs?  Dey all attack dogs?”

         “Seven on chains to deal with.  I'll take a .22 and knock them down easy and quiet.  Maybe leave the last one squawlin' to get Cousin Dumbshit to open up the door and see what the fuck is going on.  Switch off to Cletus, and then I’ll head in and take down that shithouse real loud and vulgar.  Send them sumbitches running to you or knock down any Rambo's that might be in there.”

         “Hammer and anvil, eh, Tex?  You got a plan for if dey more nails in der than yo hamma' can hit?”

         Yeah well, some backup besides a fat boy and a one-legged coonass would beat nice to have then, wouldn’t it, Moses?

         A curious smile struck Moses.  Grizzly cocked his head, perplexed.

         “What you grinnin' about?”

         “I might a-got me a sledgehammer if I need one.” He shrugged to himself and looked out the window.  “But I don't need one with you two fearless and virile warriors standing guard out front now, do I?”

         “You seen Pete befo', Tex.  He one fatass fuckin' anvil.  Ain't nobody gone git by dat bigass gut a-his.” Grizzly chuckled. “Especially if dey got my money or dey got some fried chicken.”



         Curio watched the SUV pull into the parking lot through a crack in the heavy curtains of the second-floor hotel window.  Naked and wet, a white towel wrapped around her midriff, her short black hair colored with streaks of red and soft purple, Curio peered at Moses and Grizzly as Pete Fontenot met them in the parking lot.  She noticed his big head stayed on a swivel the whole time until he shuttled his brother into a room.  They motioned for Moses to join them and she smiled as he gave them a halting motion and held his hands to his belly.  The brothers laughed at something and disappeared from her sight.  Moses slung his backpack around his shoulder and looked up at her room.  She stuck a dainty hand around the curtain and gave him a demure wave and then a slow come-hither bending of the finger.

         Curio lost sight of him as he ascended the far stairwell but heard his feet as they clomped down the concrete.  She scurried, bubbly and effervescent, to her door and put her ear to it.  His door was only two feet from hers.  She heard a fingernail drag across it on the outside and then the click of the card popping his room open.  When he opened the door, she slipped out and into his room in under a second.  Easing the door shut as hers latched, she leaned momentarily against the door and placed a foot against it.

         “Excuse me, sir.  I seemed to have misplaced my key.”

         Moses tossed the backpack down beside the AC.  “No kidding?  And in just a towel?  What a pity, dear.  You’ll catch a cold that way.”  He stripped away his black t-shirt, smiling that cocky grin she loved on his face when he knew she was in need. Guess I'll have to strip naked and lay against you so you won't feel out of place or get hyperthermia.”

             Her towel fell to the ground.  The key stuck to her damp flesh between her breasts before falling to the floor.

         “My goodness!  My ruse has failed.”  She walked to him, her hands grabbing him around his shoulders as he shook his trousers down.  After that, he had ample help with helping her feel not so out of place naked. 

         Nor was she cold.

         

         The phone rang forty minutes later and he grabbed it on the second ring.  He grunted a few replies while Curio darted next door in his shirt and her towel covering her.  She retrieved her notebook and came back.  The towel came undone as she flopped on her belly between his knees and presented her findings.  Moses finished his speech to assuage Pete and hung up.

         “I always hate getting dinner before I go to work like this.”  He sighed and leaned against the headboard.  He looked over her work as she propped her head across her fists and watched his mind work.

         “Five guys.  Three cars though.”

         “The twins left with one guy and the other had a car apiece.  The last one locked up the house.”

         “One more dog up front.  How many fucking dogs does one guy need?  Damn.”

         “I saw one dog.  There was another chain though.”

         “Food bill must be a motherfucker.  The twins look like I heard?” 

         “Tall lanky-ass basketball types.  One guy had a bad leg.  He limped real bad, too.”

         “Guns?”

         “Didn't see none but I was kinda’ far.  And of course if they had a gat, it would be hid.”

         “It all works out.”

         “How y’all gonna do it?  Grizzly Fontenot a-gonna march in da place and do his one-legged pirate impression?”  She closed one eye and limped with her finger pointed like a pistol.  “Yaaargh, ye niggers!  Avast! Shiver me timbers!”

         “Funny.  I'm goin' in through the back and taking care of things.  They cover the front in case someone bolts before I clear it.  They’ll have a clear killing zone out front if anybody gets by me.  Only there ain’t nobody gettin’ by me.  If I can keep it inside with the silencer and the radio going outside, I figure anybody out here will probably just figure it’s another Saturday.”

         “The trash sure enough looked like they party.  There’s a ton of cans in ‘em.”

         “That’s good.  If I can get it done quick without too much fuss, it’ll work out nice.  Five shouldn't be a problem.  Especially when I get one of them to open the door for me.”  He motioned for her to come to him and they kissed a while.

         “How you gonna’ get someone to open the back door for you?” She kissed his chest, lingering on his scars tenderly.

         “Shoot a dog in the belly.”

         Curio jolted.  “Do what?”  Her shock was surprising.  He only shrugged.

         “I'm taking the .22 with that silencer I got for it last fall.  And I'm gonna’ shoot them all in the head one by one until I get to the last one.  Then I'll gut shoot it and be waiting for whoever comes to see what happened.”

         “That's mean, Moses!  That's way fucking mean!”

         “It’s just a dog, baby.  I can't have a half a dozen pit bulls a-goin’ ape shit breaking chains trying to get to me.  They're pit bulls, Curio.  Trust me, their reputation as mean motherfuckers is well deserved.”  He stroked her hair, noting the dye job she had done before they rode to Tupelo. “They fight those dogs, baby.  They throw them in a fightin' pit and they fight to the death while the guys make bets.  It ain't pretty.  I’ll put ‘em all down clean, though.  Don’t sweat that kinda’ bullshit, girl.  What did I tell you about that kinda’ stuff?”

         “I just never knew you to do things like that.”

         Moses chuckled.  “Baby, you gave a sumbitch both barrels of a twelve gauge point-blank to the ribs a while ago.  Hell, you shot a guy in the neck not so long ago.  Took a while for that dude to go quietly to the light as I recall.”

         “He tried to fuck you up.”

         “I warn't there for tea and crumpets, baby.  He did what he was supposed to do.  It’s only fair.”

         “Yeah.”

         “The dog will be put down as soon as I take down whoever opens up the door.  I promise.  I ain't much for lettin' a mutt suffer.  Man or mutt for that matter.”

         “It’s never a dull moment being with you, you know that?”  She shrugged and rolled over on her side next to him.

         “It's all fun when the check clears, baby.”  He lit a Winston.  “What's the sexy Miss Curio gonna do with her time?”

         “Bathe you out of me first.  Maybe order a pizza.  This town sell booze?”

         “Until midnight.”

         “Maybe get a bottle of wine instead then.  That way I won't be laying around chewing my new nails down to the quick worrying if this was the last time me and you bumped nasties.”

         “They got a mall up here.  I'm riding with the brothers.  You'll have my ride, just make sure it’s back here and we’re packed up by midnight.  Why don't you make a friend for a while?  There's a decent patio bar not too far from here.  Go make all the local hardleg lust after you until they gotta’ go home and give their wives a lil' extry juice.  You be doing their marriages a favor.  Hell for that matter, there's all kinda’ jocks with money around here.  Ole Miss and Mississippi State are both only an hour away.  Friday night around here is probably a blast if you know where to go.”

         “Maybe.  I dunno.  We still meet up back in Memphis if you don't make it back here, right?”

         “Unless our names make the news.”

         “I hate when you say that.”

         She kissed him goodbye and left him, studying her sketches naked on the bed, rubbing his chin as a curl of the smoldering Winston rose and kissed the globed lamp jutting from the wall.

         “I love you, Tex.”  She blew him a kiss.

         “I love you, Curio.  Don't sweat it.  Five dudes and a few mutts, hell.  You could handle this.”

         She smiled and closed the door.

         Whispering, “I'll take you up on that, baby,” she slid into her room and set about her own plans for the evening.  They did not involve flirting with some pack of frat-fucks from that cow college down the road or even worse, getting drink and ending up jawing down some Colonel Reb-loving faghags at some Mississippi whore-corral.

         “Geaux Tigers, bitches.”  She murmured to herself as slid the slide back on her .380 pistol and jammed it into her shoulder holster. “I sure as fuck ain't here to be making no friends in this shitpoke town.”

         

         The Fontenots dropped Moses at the same spot as before at ten that evening.  Dressed in skin-tight black-knit clothes, he looked like a slinky Spiderman as he followed his trail of bioluminescent tape.          A Spiderman with loaded guns dangling from his wrists, not prissy silk ejaculators.

         He hit the edge of the tree line and made his way across the east barbed wire out into the pasture where he could signal the brothers as they made a pass.  The trio made a recon run before they circled around to the desolate county road.  There were only two cars in the front.  One was the Accord and the other was a Chevy Caprice, just as Curio had described.

         What Moses could not know and had no way to see was the two new cars now parked on the western side of the house.  It would have made no difference to him to know it, but later he would reflect, “it would have been kinda’ nice to know.”

         He saw the Suburban pass on schedule, the window rolled down to display a flashlight with a blue filter.  He flashed a red laser pointer and the flashlight flashed twice as the Suburban sped off.

         “It's on...”  He exhaled and moved as silently as he could through the high grass and nettles of the untended pasture until he had a clear line of sight on the backyard.

         The clouds of the night before were gone and a brilliant half moon lit up the area.  He could hear bass lines rumbling from within the house as he neared to fifty meters.  A few of the dogs were milling about on their tethers.  Moses could see their silhouettes easily enough.  A back door light flipped on and then right back off as someone hit the wrong switch.  It was enough to mess up his night eyes, though.

         “Fuckin’ A.”  His teeth grit as he closed his eyes for a few minutes to let the fresh view in when he reopened them.  When he did open them, any renewed night vision was further ruined.  Someone turned on the light again.  A pair of arms gave a heave of scraps out to the dog closest to the door.  The dogs all rose up, tails wagging and a few barking.  The door closed but the light stayed on.

         He shook his head and crouched up beside a fence post at the barbed wire barrier.  His eyes could still make out most of the dogs so he set to work.  Sighting in on the farthest one from the house, he squinted in on it just as it sat upright and provided a perfect profile.

         With the little breakdown .22, he squeezed off the shot.

         Pfft! The dog crumpled without a sound.  The one next to it cocked its head at a sound behind it on the opposite side of Moses.  He dropped it.  The third was sitting and finished with a stretch and a yawn when the Stinger hit it.  Four was curling up to sleep when Moses got him mid-circle.  Five was before six due to six disappearing into a shadow briefly.  He hit it low under the ear and it yelped and started flailing.  Its hind legs started to falter before Moses had another shot. 

         Five was now alerted to something amiss and rushed to the edge of its chain, barking wildly.  The bitch in the kennel started up as well as number seven dog.  The pups started up, barking just because they saw everyone else doing it.

         He shot number five in the head and it turned a complete flip before being still.  Moses broke apart the .22 into its three pieces and dumped them into his duffel bag.  Quickly, he got the gun stashed into its zippered compartment and slung the duffel bag on his back.  Barely two minutes passed before the Suburban rolled up in front of the pasture and pulled over.  Moses watched as Pete lumbered out of the passenger's seat and ran as fast as his big legs would carry him to the far side of the house.  Grizzly Fontenot crawled out of the driver's seat and killed the interior light.  He hunkered behind the driver door and laid a long gun across the open windowsill.          

         “Behold my saviors, the fuckin’ Cajun cavalry.” Moses whispered to himself as he flipped Cletus, his trusted Bushmaster .223, over his shoulder and popped his neck.  Running full speed, he held the rifle at his hip, ready to fire, and aimed the red light toward Grizzly.  The blue flash from his longtime friend caught his eye just as he put the house between them.  Dog number seven heard him coming and snarled as it leapt and fought its chain.  Moses brought Cletus to bear on it just as it reared up on its hind legs, pawing at him.  The chain choked its barks into hacking grunts. 

         Pfft! Moses shot it just at the head of its pecker.  The bullet knocked the dog backwards three feet and it howled in agony.  Moses slung Cletus around his shoulder again and grabbed his Army Colt .45 as he flattened against the wall at the foot of the three stairs leading to the door.  The dog turned somersaults, writhing and screaming as it snapped at its wound.  No one came to see to the animal for a horrible two minutes.

         “Hurry up, motherfuckers!  Put down the goddamned weed and check your dog...”  He actually felt bad for the dog.  Until he heard at least four more dogs inside, barking at the door in solidarity for their wounded brother. 

         “I’ll be damned.”  He mouthed to himself and holstered the pistol.  He shot the wounded dog dead.  The dogs inside were clawing at the door wildly.  Finally, the music cut off completely and he could hear male voices...and female voices...approaching the door.  Cursing, some men tried to corral the dogs, cursing them and handing them off to the others he could hear offering to collar them.  The house had more than five in it.  He was suddenly very afraid for his safety.  It was a drastic turn of event to hear a mixture of genders and voices inside the house over the radio.

         Drastic times called for drastic measures.  His thumb found the automatic setting.

         When Moses heard the lock click and saw the doorknob turn, he started shooting full auto through the flimsy particle board door.  He swept in low angles...where he hoped the dogs and someone's knees ought to be.