'Til Death Do Us Part (16 page)

“
What
’
s the screwdriver for?
”
Gary asked.

“
Gonna punch a hole in the fuel tank and just let it drain into the can.
”

“
Kind of wasteful isn
’
t it?
”
Gary asked.

“
You plan on coming back this way
again
?
”

“
Maybe
…
if not to bury my brother than at least to say goodbye properly.
”

“
Sorry
, man,
”
BT said meaning it.
“
We
’
ll find a few cans and make sure we get it all.
”

“
Probably s
hould have left the car running,
”
Gary said as they cautiously walked towards the front of the service station.

Mrs.
Deneaux
exited
the car and was leaning with her back against
it. S
he arched her back, her long aristocratic nose fully turned towards the heavens.

The store had been completely ransacked
;
what wasn
’
t gone off the shelves had been
torn into by rats
if the droppings were to be believed.
Alt
hough they were some industrial-
sized rats
, Gary thought.

“
I hate this part,
”
Gary said as they made their way over towards the far side of the store.
“
Okay
,
I
’
m going to pull this door open and then get out of the way. You shoot whatever is on the other side.
”
Gary
got ready to open the
storeroom door.

“
Ready when you are,
”
BT said.

Gary pulled hard, his hand slipping off of the handle, the door didn
’
t move.
“
Shit…
it
’
s locked.
”

BT smiled.

“
Should I kick it in?
”
Gary asked.

“
I don
’
t think that
’
ll be necessary,
”
BT said as he twisted the handle and pushed the door open. The door swung effortlessly inward
s, BT stepped back, it was too dark inside the small room to see anything.

“
I
could have done that,
”
Gary said trying to salvage some face.

“
I know, it
’
s alright, I won
’
t tell anyone,”
BT said as he went into the closet after he realized there was nothing in there. He pulled out a mop and bucket. “
That
’
ll work…t
he bucket is for the gas,
”
BT explained.

“
I knew that, I just didn
’
t know what the mop was for.
”

“
Steering wheel,
”
BT said as he pushed the bucket across the floor.
“
See if you can find something to puncture a tank and either a funnel or something we can make a funnel out of.

Gary came out a few moments later with a broken windshield wiper fluid bottle and a smal
l knife meant more for display—
a tourist
’
s memento as opposed to something that could withstand use, but it was all he could find in such short notice and he didn
’
t want to have to stay in there alone any longer than he had to.

“
Here let me see,
”
BT asked as he put his hand out for the knife.
“
Kind of flimsy
,
but it might work. I
’
ll make the puncture
,
you just be ready with the bucket. When it
’
s about half full go use it to fill the Pinto and we
’
ll keep doing that until we top it off.
”

Gary was nodding as he cut the bottom of the windshield fluid bottle off.

BT walked over to
the end of the gas station lot;
a white Toyota Camry was parked on the grass awaiting a repair that would never be forthcoming.
“
This will do,
”
h
e said as he slid under the car. He hoped there was enough gas in it to make it worth their w
hile, he hated being stationary;
stationary meant exposed and exposed was not what anybody wanted to be these days.

“
That
’
s a nice car,
”
Gary said just as BT was about to try
to
drive the knife home.
“
Kind of a damn shame to wreck it.
”

BT drove the knife blade into the metal.
“
Dammit!
”
BT yelled.
“
Blade snapped, gimme the bucket.
”
BT
’s
right arm was flailing about looking to grab the gas catcher.

“
You said the blade broke, what do you need the bucket for?
”
Gary asked, even as he began to smell gas.

“
It made a pencil-
sized hole and it
’
s startin
g to splash around my damn face.
Give
me the bucket or I
’
m going to drag you down here with me.
”

Gary pushed the bucket under.

“
This i
s going to take forever to fill,
go see if you can find anything I can use to make this hole bigger.

From BT
’
s vantage point
,
he could only see the bottom of Gary
’
s legs and when they didn
’
t move away
,
BT reiterated his request.

“
He can
’
t
‘
cause he gots a
nine
on his back.
”

BT started to scoot out from under the car when
he heard the unfamiliar voice.
“
Cuz, I wouldn
’
t do that if I were you.
”

Another voice said off to his left.
“
Man ain
’
t
chu a big un.
”
Obviously
referring to BT.

“
Listen,
”
BT said,
“
w
e
’
re just trying to get some gas.

“
See that
’
s the problem…
that
’
s our car.
”
T
he first voice said.

“
S
ee I told you it was a nice car,
”
Gary said.

BT didn
’
t think it mattered which car they had used, any of them would have been a problem with the
se
two men.

“
You and your old lady trying to leave our part of town without paying the proper respects?
”
t
he man next to Gary said.

“
Cuz, you said
‘
old lady
’.”
And the other one laughed.

“
What
’
s so funny? S
he is an old lady,
”
Gary said to the one holding him
at
gunpoint.

The man with the gun could not have been much more than twenty, but the scar that ran down the side of his face and the haunted look in his eyes gave him the appearance of someone almost double his age.
His partner
—
who appeared older
—
acted the younger of the two, taking all of his queues from the man with the 9mm.

BT had a good
idea who they were dealing
with. He hoped they were wanna
be gang bangers as opposed to the real thing
,
or what remained of their lives wasn
’
t going to be worth much more than the bucket that was filling with the gas.

“
You
’
re a funny fuck!
”
t
he younger man said, sticking the barrel of the pistol right up against Gary
’
s cheek.

“
Wait, wait, he didn
’
t m
ean anything by it,
”
BT said
,
wriggling
out enough so that he could at least see the two men.

“
Who the fuck told you to move!
”
t
he scarred man said
,
now thrusting his pistol down towards BT.
“
And why is you
r
Uncle Tom ass han
ging with these two crackers to
begin with?
”

“
Crackers?
”
Gary asked.
“
Is that another term for crazy? Because Mike probably was but I
’
m not.
”

“
Shut the fuck up before I bust a cap in your ass!
”
t
he man yelled.

Gary was about to ask what a cap was
,
but was headed off at the pass by BT.

“
Relax,
”
BT said
,
holding his hands out.

“
Yo,
who the fuck you telling to relax?
”
Scarred said.

“
My…
it is so hot here.
”
Mrs.
Deneaux
was
fanning herself with what looked like a road map. She
approached
slowly as if she didn
’
t have a care in the world.

“
Shortie
, I might need to hit that,
”
t
he man without the gun said.

“
Shit
,
man
,
are you serious?
”
Scarred/Shortie answered.
“
Wings
,
that bitch has to be pushing
two hundred
.
”

“
It
’
s still the first thing I
’
ve
seen with a pussy in two weeks,
”
Wings said
,
grabbing his crotch and moving towards Mrs.
Deneaux
.
“
Yo
,
sweet thing
,
what ch
u
up to?
”
Wings said getting up close to Mrs.
Deneaux
.

“
Well aren
’
t you just the sweetest thing,
”
s
he said as she placed the barrel of her revolver up against Wing
’
s forehead.

“
Yo
,
you crazy bitch
!
”
Wings yelled.

“
Careful,
”
Mrs.
Deneaux
said calmly,
“
you
’
re likely to get my heart fluttering and I haven
’
t taken my pills today
.
W
ho knows
what could happen at that point,
I might just blow your pretty head right from your shoulders.
”