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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2052945-Money-Guns-and-Lawyers-Chapt-2
Rated: GC · Fiction · Action/Adventure · #2052945
Second Instalment.
2
Cat would’ve been so proud of my assessment. I always write those moments off as gut feeling and paranoia, while she has a more eclectic approach to matters of what she calls intuition and coincidence. To say I wasn’t surprised when the front tire blew would be an understatement. There’s and old saying, “expect the worst and hope for the best”. That should’ve been our family motto, emblazoned on the side of our car next to a giant yellow smiley face and permanently etched into the skin of at least one family member with ink.

Josh, who was still trying to punch Jay while Cat finished throwing whatever assorted detritus she could find in the front seat at Jay, had now completely lost his shit. The last thing he screamed was “Gawwddamn Fucking Raton!!!” as he dove into the back seat to presumably kill Jay while the car started to swerve off the road unmanned and as out of control as Josh.

Its times like this I think about asking for a raise. For the love of god, how the hell does our little band stay together when shit like this goes down? Oh yeah, that’s right…it’s me that holds the shit together. I’m so demanding a raise if we get through this, but right now I have to pull a “Duke’s of Hazard” and get this metal beast back under control.

With a deep sigh, I slid over into the driver’s seat; dodging Josh’s flailing legs in the process, wrestling with the steering wheel, and forcing the car to straighten out as we barely miss clipping the cement barrier separating the road from the cliff. “Fuck” I muttered as I hauled hard to the right and regained control of the car. “Think fast Sunshine” I said to myself as I brought the car to a grinding halt.

Cat had the dog up in the front seat with us by the time the dust settled, holding him by the bright yellow smiley bandana I had tied around his neck, marking him as one of the family. Glancing into the rearview mirror, I noted that Shay and Greg seem to have Josh subdued. Of course, he’s pretty easily subdued when Shay chokes the living shit out of him while they boys hold him down. His violent twitching gives me just the inspiration I need as I see the County Mountie amble up along side the car.

“You were going awful fast there little lady.” His breath stinks of stale coffee and cigarettes as he leans into my open window. “I’m going to need to see your license and registration.” I can see his beady little eyes behind his ridiculous aviator glasses, flicking between the front and back seats. A brow arched as he caught a glimpse of Josh in the back seat, arms and legs pinned down, body twitching, eyes rolled up into the back of his head.

“I’m very sorry officer…” I glanced at his badge scanning for his name nearly choking on my own tongue to keep from laughing aloud “Officer Daubwattle.” I say, leaning across the dog in my attempt to reach the glove box for my ID and paperwork for the car. “You see, my brother is epileptic and he’s having a seizure. We are trying to get him to the closest medical facility and I panicked.” I looked up at him, with what I hoped was my most innocent smile. “Do you know if there is a hospital in this town?”

A low moan issued from the back seat, and a quick glance at Josh’s face with his flaring nostrils told me that stopping in Raton was not an option as far as he was concerned. “Fuck that, not….stopping…fucking Raton….motherfucking…”

Officer Daubwattle’s gaze shifts to the four adults jammed into the back seat of our car, pupils widening as our “patient” begins to swear incoherently.

I stammer…”Ummm….he also has a mean case of Turrets; it comes on strong whenever he has a seizure. It’s really very embarrassing.”

At this point, I’m starting to sweat a little. It doesn’t usually take this much for me to sweet talk our way out of trouble with the local yokels. I’m beginning to wonder if talk isn’t going to get us out of this tight spot. We’ve disposed of a lot of “trouble” in the desert before, but never a cop. The thought of it is making my stomach churn.

I’m just about to make a plea for my brother’s health and beg Daubwattle for an escort to the nearest hospital when he hands me back my ID and paperwork. “You slow it down young lady. Your brother seems to be doing of for right now. I’m sure he’ll be ok until you can get into town and get him some medical attention, but next time you got to be prepared. Don’t know what you young folks were thinking, driving all the way down here from Denver and with no meds for his affliction. Always, be prepared missy, if it’s good enough for the Boy Scouts its good enough for you hippies. Now then, you need any help with that there tire?” He said as he gestured with his thumb at the right rear tire.

“No Sir.” I said as calmly as I could, the last thing I needed at the moment was for that cop to get a look inside our trunk. “We can handle it, thank you Sir. I promise we’ll be more prepared next time. After all,” I said “Failing to prepare is preparing to fail, right officer?” If this jerk only knew how prepared we were at that moment. Hell, we were prepared for World War III if it came right down to it, but he didn’t need to know that.

I’m pretty sure even the dog breathed a sigh of relief as the cop turned around and headed back toward his car. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to hug Josh or kick his ass. Maybe I’d do both, but first I we had to wait for that cop to get on his way so we could change the tire and get back on the road. I only hoped that we weren’t going to be too late.

As Officer Daubwattle walked back towards his own vehicle, part of our merchandise, which was apparently awakened during what I like to think of as Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride, started pounding out a lively 4X4 beat back in the trunk.

“Fuck, why can’t anything be simple anymore?” I sigh to myself as I see our friendly neighborhood cop stop in his tracks and look down at our pounding trunk.

“What in Tarnation…” Officer Daubwattle turned on his heals and walked back to front of the car. “I’m going to have to ask you to exit the vehicle miss. I need to take a look inside your trunk.”

“Fuck” I say more to myself than anyone else, my mind racing for a reasonable explanation to the racket emanating from our cargo area. “Would you believe Officer that I have one hell of a sound system back there? That’s just my bass, it always kicks in like that when turn the key in the ignition…”

That’s when things went from bad, to worse.

Apparently, Sycamore had reached the end of his tolerance for this cop harassing his pack, and chose that exact moment to start barking again. From the trunk muffled cries for help sounded and the cop pulled his gun and leveled at me. “Step the fuck out of the vehicle!”

Well, we were well and truly screwed now. Slowly, I reached for the latch and opened the door, sliding out onto my feet. Just an instant was all it took, the cop took his eye off of me, to check on the back seat, and Sycamore leapt at him. When the shot rang out, I’m not sure who was more surprised, me, the cop, or the dog.

It was all the time Josh needed. In a split second as Daubwattle was distracted by the sight of a huge wolfhound-mastiff mix leaping at him from the front door, Josh had the passenger door open and the cop by his throat on the ground. In a flash Greg and Jay rolled out behind him, looking for a fight.

Shay, always calm and dangerously cool in situations like this, had slipped out the other door and come around behind the cop. By the time Josh had him on the ground, Shay had picked up his gun and had it pointed at Daubwattle’s head. “You picked the wrong family to fuck with asshole.” She said, and her voice had an edge to it that was as cold as ice.

By now, Cat had climbed out of the car as well, and was trying to hold the snarling dog back. Let me tell you, Sycamore wanted a piece of that cop all right, and I think if I hadn’t spoken up at that moment, he would have had it.
“Guys,” I said, looking down at the slowly spreading red stain crawling its way across the arm of my jacket “I think we are going to have to call Mr. M and let him know we are going to be late.”

“Good idea Morgi, you go ahead and do that, while the boys and me take care of Mr. Fuckwattle here.” Josh said as he started to pull the stunned cop to his feet.

I make all the calls to Mr. M. For some reason, he only wants to hear from me, probably because if I’m not the one calling, then things have gone terribly wrong. It’s one of his rules. I make and receive all the calls. Josh, Shay and I then work out the details and we make things happen for Mr. Money. Today, that wasn’t going to happen.

“I’d love to Josh, but….”I swallowed hard, trying to keep my eyes focused on my family, none of whom had turned their attention on me yet. “…I just….don’t think…I can….”

“Why the fuck not?” Josh snapped.

“Well, because…that fat bastard fucking shot me, that’s why.” I could barely get the words out. I’m sure I mentioned before that I try to stay as far away as possible from the less pleasant aspects of our job. I don’t like guns, and knives are ok as long as I’m the one throwing them. I had been cut plenty of times, but I had never been shot before. This was definitely a day for the record books.

I’m fairly certain that’s when I hit the ground, my legs having finally decided not to keep me in an upright position any longer. I’m also fairly certain that’s when Officer Daubwattle’s death warrant was signed. I remember flinching as I heard the retort of the gun reverberate off the side of the car, I also remember how deathly silent it became after that second shot was fired. Even the merchandise grew silent.
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