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Goddamn it, Sherm . . .
Remember who planned this shit, he warned me. You couldn t have pulled this
off without me. Now, you still want to walk outside?
What are you gonna do, Sherm? You gonna fucking shoot me?
He fingered the trigger, smiled, then relaxed.
No, man, I ain t gonna shoot you. I was just playing. But I want you to
realize that you re not thinking straight. That s exactly what would have been
waiting for you if you d tried walking outside. A bullet. A fucking storm of
lead.
I let go of the breath I d been holding.
Look, he continued, we all knew the risks when we went into this. You were
dying anyway, you said. You didn t have to worry about getting caught. And as
for John hey, Carpet Dick was dumb enough to come along, even after we both
told him not to. So whatever happens with him well, shit happens. Life s a
bitch, then you die. That s the rule, man. You can t do anything about it. He
made his decision.
And what about you, Sherm? What made you want to come along, knowing that we
might end up just as fucked as we are right now?
I told you before, yo. We re boys. I was bored with Hanover. Shit never
happens here. I haven t done anything fun like this since I left Portland.
What, you mean you ve done this before? And this is fun to you?
His face grew serious again. Tommy, you got no idea some of the things I ve
done. Some of the shit I ve pulled.
I shivered.
He smiled.
And yeah, this is fun. And it s about to get funner.
Funner ain t a word, Sherm.
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Neither is surrender. At least not in my dictionary. So we cool on that?
I looked down at Keith s stiffening corpse, then back up at the gun still in
Sherm s hand.
Yeah. Sure, man, I m cool with that.
All right then. How about we go get this fucking party started?
He stepped toward the door. I coughed, loud and hard, hoping that the others
could hear me in time.
You all right?
I rubbed my throat, hamming it up as best I could.
Yeah. Just thirsty, is all. My throat is really raw. I wish there was
something to drink up in here.
There s sodas in the office down the hall. They re warm though. You want me
to get you one?
That d be great, man. Thanks, dog.
No problem.
Before either of us could move, the phones began to ring.
Oh for fuck s sake, he whined. What the hell do they want now?
They rang again. And again.
Ain t you gonna pick it up? I asked.
No. It s just that asshole Ramirez, wanting to blow some more smoke up my
ass.
Three more rings.
I don t know, Sherm. It might be important.
Four more.
Fuck them.
There was a squawk from outside, then Detective Ramirez s voice boomed over
the still-ringing phones.
SHADY! SHADY, THIS IS DETECTIVE RAMIREZ! SHADY, I NEED YOU TO PICK UP THE
PHONE! I NEED TO SPEAK WITH YOU IMMEDIATELY REGARDING YOUR REQUESTS. IT S
IMPORTANT. PLEASE PICK UP THE PHONE!
Two more rings.
SHADY!
Sherm gritted his teeth.
Oh, man, I hope I get a chance to shoot that motherfucker in the face before
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this is over.
He grabbed the phone from its cradle and brought it to his ear.
Yo. This is Shady. What the fuck do you want now, Ramirez?
He listened quietly, then said, I don t know what you re talking about, man.
You been smoking the crack that you have in the evidence locker or something?
Another pause.
No man, I told you what my name was.
A third pause.
No.
Slowly, Sherm raised his eyes to me.
O Brien? No, I never heard of him either.
My heart jumped into my throat.
Yo, I m telling you Ramirez, I don t know any Tommy O Brien or this fucking
John dude. Of course I m being straight with you.
He started to twitch. It began with a vein in his neck. It throbbed and
pulsated like a snake twisting and coiling. Then his eye began to flutter. He
sat down on the corner of the desk and his leg began to kick wildly back and
forth.
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