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VIC SLADE, PRIVATE EYE: The Slade Genesis - Chapter 2This story may contain adult content. |
| Written by TRUMAN DAVIS | |
| Thursday, 06 March 2008 | |
VIC CROUCHED LOW BEHIND THE TOMBSTONE. At this point he knew he was outnumbered, but he was also confident enough in his combat abilities that he decided seven to one odds weren't that bad. He was a crack shot with just about any weapon in his hands anyway and these guys were nothing more than Hatchetmen: hired guns that relied more on the quantity of bullets fired than the quality of the shot itself to get the job done. Vic smiled; he figured his odds as being good.
It had been only a week since the kid with the saddlebag ran into his office seeking refuge from three hitmen. The kid, Matthew, a fifteen year old runaway, was hanging around the docks and had stolen something he shouldn't have: the saddlebag that contained a manila file. Inside the file was a map that supposedly led to a very valuable voodoo idol with a deadly curse attached to it. That's really all the information Slade had been able to gather on the situation. Now, Matthew was hiding in the largest cemetery in New Orleans somewhere amongst the mausoleums and above ground gravesites that were the signature of south Louisiana's graveyards.
Vic had to find the boy before any of these seven goons did or he would never forgive himself for declining to take the job of protecting him... for free. Instead, Vic turned the boy over to the police who, in turn, had taken Matthew to Father O'Doule for safe keeping at Mother of Our Savior Cathedral... but they tracked him there. Vic was pissed at himself for such a stupid judgment call just because he was too proud to take on a job without pay. This was a child, after all, and at least deserved the best. And Vic was the best. But that was behind him. His priority, now, was Matthew's safety. The map would come later, and Matthew was the only link to where it was hidden.
The thugs were part of Angus Mac's gang. Angus ran the largest gambling racket in New Orleans. His four riverboat casinos alone allowed him to practically have the run of the city. It was no surprise that his apes were able to find Matthew, Angus probably had a few well informed flatties on his pay role: most cops were easy to corrupt with the right amount of cabbage stuffed in their pockets. Now, for some reason, Angus wanted this map and was willing to kill a kid for it. That made this a dangerous situation for any bodyguard.
Vic dashed along a line of tombstones toward a large mausoleum in the middle of the cemetery. He came to a tall statue of the Virgin Mary, about twenty feet from the mausoleum, and stopped. He listened and picked up the sounds of three goons two rows over to his left. Damn they were loud. In Europe, he would have no problem hunting these idiots and chilling them.
Staying low, he couldn't see them through the large granite and marble caskets, but he could tell they were moving away from him. He continued on. At the door of the mausoleum, he spotted a footprint in the dirt. It was barely noticeable and he nearly stepped on it himself. A shoe size smaller than his own, he knew it belonged to Matthew. He wiped it away with his shoe and tried the door. It budged, slightly, until he put more weight behind it.
A shaft of light split the darkness of the interior of the large tomb and Vic stepped in.
"Matthew," Vic whispered just loud enough to be heard with the concrete walls. The smell hit him like a sledgehammer; a pungent, musty odor that invaded his senses. Christ, how could anyone stand to hang out in here? Vic asked himself.
"I'm here," Matthew replied from the darkness.
Vic took another look around outside and stepped in, closing the door behind him. With a FLICK Matthew's flashlight came to life. Cockroaches scattered. Cobwebs dangled in ghostly packs.
"Okay," Vic started. "We've got seven apes out there roaming among the dead. They want you bad and will kill me. So here's the plan... the only plan; and I expect you to stick to it. We'll discuss where you hid the map once we've reached the safehouse. Got it?"
Matthew nodded.
"You stay with me," Vic made a just-to-be-sure check of his ammo supply: three extra, loaded magazines and one in his pistol. He chambered a .45 slug into the pipe of his Colt automatic as he explained. "You move when I move, stop when I stop, do exactly as I say. No matter what. You want to live to see sixteen, that's what you do, kid."
Vic returned to the door and, without missing a beat, Matthew was right with him. Vic knew it would be a long journey to his chosen exit point from the graveyard, which was a hole in the concrete wall that surrounded it. A hole just large enough to crawl through and an exit point that he was sure the hoods didn't know existed. If they could make the hundred yard dash without being detected, they should be ok.
Vic listened for any exterior movements, but only heard the birds playing in the surrounding trees. He opened the door and duo dashed several yards, coming to rest at the foot of a tall, slender memorial topped with a perched gargoyle. Vic scanned the area before him and picked up the sounds of shuffling footsteps two rows ahead on his right. There was only one of them this time and he sounded busy with a mausoleum door.
Vic crept forward with Matthew in tow and stopped just around the corner from the noisy ape. He turned to Matthew and gave him a ‘stay here - be quiet' gesture, then stood slowly against the corner of the granite tomb that hid him from view and tucked the Colt into the combat holster that rode low on his hip. He then reached down and took a bootknife from its sheath strapped near his ankle under his pants.
Vic slithered around the corner and spotted the thug trying to open the rusty door of a tomb; a .38 revolver in his right hand. Vic held the knife in his teeth and within three silent steps he was at the man's back, grabbing the gunhand and driving the man's head hard into the solid marble wall with a SPLACK! The man's knees buckled and he fell to the ground, but not before Vic snapped his neck for good measure. He took the revolver and threw it far into an area to which he hoped to draw the other's attention.
Vic returned just in time to catch a glimpse of an Angus goon coming around the corner behind Matthew. Without missing a step, Vic grabbed knife from his teeth and quickly flicked it at the gunman, hitting his mark right in the throat. The man dropped his gun and grabbed at the knife as a river of blood began to flow from the wound; he gurgled a nasty yell for help and fell where he stood.
The sound of running footsteps filled the air to the left, quickly approaching the fallen goon.
"Move it," Vic said. He led Matthew away and disappeared into the maze of gravesites, statues, and upright tombs.
The two reached the halfway point when a voice rose above the tombs: "Spread out! Slade's here somewhere! Kill him first, then, find the boy!"
That told Vic all he needed to know - they were unaware that Matthew was with him.
They moved along until a goon stepped into their path three rows ahead. By now, Slade was confident of a successful escape, so he didn't mind spitting some metal.
BLAMM! BLAMM!
Vic's automatic barked twice at the bad guy, but its bite proved to be much bigger as the large caliber slugs slammed into the kill zone of his chest, shredding his heart into pulp. The man flew back and slumped against a tombstone and the two kept running, hopping over the body as they went.
Weaving through the labyrinth of graves, they were just three rows from the hole in the perimeter wall when gunfire erupted from behind. Bullets ZHINGED all around, bouncing around and WHACKING into the tombs creating small clouds of white powder as the duo was pelted with bits and pebbles of marble, granite and concrete. Vic grabbed Matthew and shoved him forward.
The opening was just ahead.
"See that hole in the wall?" Vic called to Matthew, "Go! Go!"
Once Matthew sprinted ahead, Vic stopped in his tracks, spinning around to face the gunmen while dropping to one knee. As if it had a mind of its own, the Colt found a target and plugged the pointman's chest with two lugs of hot lead. His chest exploded into a bloody spray as he fell. Just behind him, another hatchetman continued the chase not registering that his sidekick was down until it was too late. Then, he too went down as a .45 caliber slug ripped through his head, blowing the back completely away followed by a cloud of crimson and half of his brain. His forward momentum caused him to stumble and SLAP face first into a marble tombstone.
With two of Angus's hitmen still roaming the graveyard, no doubt homing in on the sound of the gunfire, Vic made a dash for the hole, shimmying through to meet Matthew, frightened and shaken, but nonetheless in one piece.
"Let's go, kid," Vic calmly reloaded his gun and walked away, with Matthew quickly and gratefully on the heels of his hero.
**** To be continued in THE SLADE GENESIS - Chapter 3. Copyright 2008 TRUMAN DAVIS |
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| Last Updated ( Friday, 09 May 2008 ) |
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