Chapter 12 #2
“I got it firmly between my hands.”
“Spread them legs.”
“Why am I spreading my legs?”
“Tuck in that tush.”
“Why?”
“And release all of your rage.”
He swings Dave like that vase just cursed out his mother, his lover, and his Mistress. The vase shatters into a spray of ceramic dust, little pieces hitting the far wall and sprinkling down everywhere.
“Damn, husband, that was mighty sexy. I just fell in love with you all over again.”
Jackson whirls around. “Do you think they have a fence I could beat the shit out of?”
“W-Why would you ever want to hurt a fence, Jackson? That sounds like concerning behavior.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Is it?”
“Very.”
“Is it? I have trauma I would like to take out on a fence. Preferably one in our front yard, but seeing as that would be heavily frowned upon, any other could suffice.”
“No fences are allowed to be harmed. It’s in the rules.”
“Sure it is. I’m sure you read the rules quite well.”
“I did. What do you want to smack next?” I ask, really feeling like I should get him on track before he reads their declaration that if you want to bring something to destroy, they will gladly host the equipment and the room. The Fence’s very life could be in danger.
“It’s your turn,” he says.
“Ooh, my turn. Okay… I want to try the Racket of Reckoning.” I snatch it up and hurry over to look at my choices.
“What about this bowl that looks like it hasn’t seen light since 1972?”
“I will fuck it up with finesse,” I say as he sets it up while I give a few test swings before I swing at the bowl. The racket’s soft netting doesn’t break the object, but the speed with which I send it at the wall sure does.
“I want one of these in our house,” I decide.
“I feel like maybe we could just come here on occasion,” Jackson says. “You’re already trying to kick my car out of the garage for another gun room.”
“Maybe we just need a bigger house. Or to add onto it.”
“Not sure we do.”
“Pretty sure we do,” I say as I grab a stack of glasses and set them in a row. “Speed round. You have five seconds. It’s about how long Dave can last anyway.”
“Why do I regret grabbing Dave?” he asks.
“I really don’t know. The way you grip him tells me you don’t actually regret it,” I assure him. “You need help with that shaft?”
“I got it.”
“That’s my man. Now… three seconds.”
“I’m pretty sure I can’t do it in three seconds, but I’ll try my best.”
He swings the stick, hitting each glass one at a time and sending them flying.
“Was I too slow?”
“You were sexy, and that was all that mattered.”
“Thank you. I’m glad I’m being rated on sexiness instead of speed,” he says.
“Dave’s thrilled by how sexy you are too.”
Jackson laughs as he quickly hangs up Dave. “I’m going for the bat now.”
“Bold choice.”
“Thank you.”
“I’m going for the crowbar, then,” I say as I eye the old printer. “Let’s tag-team it. First you, then me. Got it?”
“Sure do,” he replies as he flips his visor back down and eyes his prey.
After he takes his turn, I smash down and Jackson comes in right after me. “I feel like we’re in that scene from Shaun of the Dead. Ooh, we should simulate a zombie apocalypse where Tavish is a zombie.”
“Why’s everything happen to Tavish?” Jackson asks as he sends a chunk of the printer flying.
“It’s just the sad way life rolls.”
“Life? Or you?”
“I am life,” I declare.
He grins, clearly agreeing with that. “The funny thing is that I think you and Tavish actually have a lot in common. You two sure know how to get enjoyment out of the same things.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Sure, sure,” he says.
When we’ve obliterated the printer, we’re left standing over it and looking down at its remains, pleased with our abilities.
“I’m rather impressed,” Jackson comments. “So many pieces.”
“I think we’re really good at this. This could be a second job for us if our first one doesn’t pan out,” I say.
“I’m sorry… how do we make this a job?”
“We strip you and then charge people to watch you beat things with Dave.”
“Who would pay to see any of that?”
“More than you’d know,” I mutter while I hang my crowbar back up and grab the racket again. “I’d be your number one fan, of course.”
“These plates look fun,” Jackson says after we head over to look at what else we have to destroy.
As I’m picking up a plate and questioning whether I’d get yelled at for flinging it at him like a Frisbee so he could smash it with the baseball bat, the door opens, almost as if the employee can read my mind.
I assume they’re here to check on us, since there’s no way our forty-five minutes are up.
That’s until I see the way the man reaches for his hip.
I fling the plate so hard it smashes into his hand and he drops the gun. It skids out into the hallway as he howls and another man charges in.
I grab for my gun before I realize that I can’t get to it with these stupid fucking coveralls on!
I kick a large metal table over and throw Jackson behind it before I rush at the man.
He’s still getting his gun up when I swing the racket at his head and question why exactly I chose to swap out the crowbar for the Racket of Reckoning.
I honestly reckon it’s not going to damage this guy’s face as much as a crowbar would have, and am proven right when he acts like I gently patted his cheek with it.
Four more men rush in as I flip the racket on its side and try to use the hard edge to hit him, but it’s really such a shitty weapon when we get down to it, so I flip it around and instead try to ram the edge of the handle into the man’s eye.
Now that? That one works quite well. He yells out a curse while he falls back into one of his buddies, blocking his ability to attack.
If I keep them jammed at the door, not too many can come in at once.
“My fucking eye! My fucking eye!” he cries.
“You don’t deserve to look upon my husband’s beautiful body with two eyes,” I snarl.
A glass goes whizzing on by me, but I don’t notice this until I’ve stepped into the path of Jackson’s second glass as it smashes into the back of my head. Thankfully, I have the helmet on or it might have hurt.
“Ow! Honey! Attack them, not me!”
“I’m so sorry!” he calls.
“Better yet, hide behind that table your husband lovingly set out for you.”
“I’d rather not,” he says as a man uses my distraction from Jackson’s assault on my head to slam into me. He drives me back and tries stabbing me with his knife. I slide the racket up and his knife gets caught in its strings. I twist it up and it pulls the knife out of his hands.
I try to gain the knife for myself with the intent of stabbing them or cutting open my clothes so I can get my gun out, but a third man makes the racket and knife go flying.
“Babe, get these clothes off me. That’s your new mission.”
“Why?” Jackson asks as he throws what looks like a VHS tape in the air and hits it with the bat. I watch while it smashes a man in the face and my love for him explodes all over again.
“That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” I whisper.
“Stay focused, please.”
“I’m the master at being focused. Like I’m focused on this guy trying to murder me,” I say as I back up and grab the crowbar off the wall.
They seem to think that’s a bit more menacing than the Racket of Reckoning, which I reckon I also wouldn’t have been as concerned over.
I smash one man in the side with the crowbar as I shove them back, hoping to get Jackson and myself away from the room that has no other way out.
And when I see that five people weren’t all they sent, I reconfirm why I didn’t want to be backed into a room with no other exit.
Another man pulls a gun out, so I dive for the one that ended up on the floor, but a woman, seeing what I’m doing, kicks it back.
The gun slides out of reach while one of the men swings a knife at me.
He quickly finds out the difference between a short weapon and a weapon with a longer range when the crowbar gets him in the face and he hits the ground, knocking someone behind him back.
I get three more down before Jackson makes it out of the room and hits one away from me with a baseball bat. He helps me take down three more as they’re forced to realize that using guns in a hallway this narrow with as many people as they have is not going to turn out well for them.
A man shoves me back against a door while I tilt the crowbar with the plan of smashing him in the side of the face just as the space behind me disappears.
The last thing I was expecting was for the door to open, and it wouldn’t have been the biggest deal if not for the men pushing against me so hard I go flying into the room. Immediately, I trip over the woman who’d opened the door, and she hits the ground hard with a cry.
“Shit,” I hiss as I hook her, grab a plate that’s sitting on a desk by the door, and ram it into the side of the guy’s head. When it breaks, I hold the shattered ceramic and drive the piece into his thigh. He howls and draws back.
“Jackson, get my suit off. Cut it off if you need to,” I say while I flip a table and guide the woman and her friend behind it. I try to get out of the room, but the remaining men are simply following me, leaving the two women inside terrified and vulnerable.
“Stay behind the table and don’t move. Heads down and protected,” I urge them.
I grab a man in a choke hold, using his body to cover my vitals as I grab the zipper on my jumpsuit. It’s like the damn thing refuses to let go of me.
“Police! Get on the ground and put your hands up!” a woman shouts.
“I would love to,” I say as I throw the man back and put my hands up enough that she knows I’m not a part of this. Jackson mimics me, but the guys who are left seem to think she’s of no concern and that this is an opportune moment to come after us.
“Drop your weapons and get on the ground!” she orders, but when one of the men turns on her, she doesn’t have time to react before I hear his gun go off.
I hold my hand out and Jackson throws something at me.
I grab it and wonder why exactly he threw me a VCR, but I roll with it.
The moment the man in front of me tries to punch me, I whip the VCR around by its cord before smashing it right in the side of his face.
Not ready to let my VCR go, I pull it back to me by the cord and ram it at another man’s face hard enough that he falls back, and Jackson knocks him to the ground with The Bat of Bludgeoning.
There are only two left standing, and all I have to do is get them down, but the last one is quite trigger-happy.
He shoots again and I throw his buddy in front of me.
The man I’m holding on to screams when he takes a bullet to the side.
He tilts away from me as the guy tries shooting again and nearly gets his buddy a second time before I throw the wounded man to the side and grab the final man.
I tear his gun out of his hand, smash it into the side of his head, and throw him on the ground before I look around at the carnage.
Really, not too shabby for being unable to pull out my gun.
“Officer, are you alright?” I ask while I grab the guns our attackers had held and unload them before sliding the unloaded guns her way. “Where’s your partner?”
“She was right behind me, something must have slowed her down,” she says as she wraps something around her leg.
“Let me help you. We’re PIs and have concealed carry licenses,” Jackson says. “We both have guns on us. Did you call for backup?”
“Yes, I did.”
“Leland, can you help her while I find her partner?” he asks.
“Don’t leave,” I say, not wanting him out of my sight. And obviously, I can’t leave her. It’s not like we killed these people. They could get up at any point and are likely to before long.
Sirens sound before I have to decide anything, and police soon swarm the scene.