Buddy Lee suddenly felt like he was flying. Oscar had grabbed him around the waist like he was a bag of laundry. The big man squeezed Buddy Lee so hard he thought his nuts were going to pop. Buddy Lee opened and closed his mouth like a trout bouncing around on the floor of a jon boat. As Andy got up to one knee, Buddy Lee kicked him as hard as he could in the face. The younger man fell back into the ruin of the coffee table. Buddy Lee tucked his head forward, then snapped it backward. The sound of Oscar’s nose breaking was music to his ears. The big man released him from his deadly embrace. Buddy Lee landed on his feet, then mule-kicked Oscar in the right shin.
Andy swung the Colt butt-first into the side of Buddy Lee’s head. Stars exploded all around him as he dropped to all fours. He was vaguely aware his hand had landed in the razor-sharp remains of the table. Shards of glass sliced through his thick calluses and buried their way into his palms. His stomach convulsed but the contents of his belly stayed put. Oscar fell against the door clutching his shin.
Andy put the barrel of the Python against Buddy Lee’s temple. Buddy Lee felt a trickle of blood run down his face and wind its way over his five-o’clock shadow. Andy’s top lip was beginning to swell. His cheek was on fire. A cloudy film seemed to be covering his left eye. The old man had punted him in the face like he was kicking the winning field goal in the Super Bowl.
“Cut the cord off that TV and tie him up.” Andy said. He spit a pinkish globule onto the floor. It was equal parts saliva and blood. Oscar grabbed his knife out of his pocket and limped over to the television. He tied Buddy Lee’s hands behind his back. Oscar couldn’t believe how fast the old man moved. He’d been a blur coming out of the kitchen. It was like watching the Flash.
“I think you broke one of my teeth, old man.” Andy said. He probed his right molar with his tongue. The tooth wiggled against the intruding tongue.
“That ain’t nothing compared to what I’m gonna do when I get loose,” Buddy Lee said. Andy laughed. He pressed the barrel into Buddy Lee’s head.
“You about two seconds from getting a hole in your fucking head. But first I’m gonna ask you a couple of questions and you gonna give me some answers,” Andy said.
“Hey, I mean this from the bottom of my heart. Fuck you,” Buddy Lee said. Andy kicked him in the stomach. The few remaining wisps of air in his lungs rushed out of his mouth with a whoosh! Buddy Lee pitched forward. His face landed in a pile of crushed glass. A few slivers tried to find their way into his mouth. Andy grabbed him by his hair. He put his mouth close to Buddy Lee’s ear.
“You miss your son? You gonna see him soon enough. But before that happens you gonna beg for a bullet,” he said.
Andy kicked him again. This time his lunch did make a break for it. Stomach acid burned his throat as the vomit raced up his esophagus. It spilled over his lips like a waterfall.
“You better kill me,” Buddy Lee gasped. Andy laughed.
“Ooh, I better kill you,” he said. He spoke in a high-pitched nasally tone.
“Maybe we should ask him about the girl,” Oscar offered. Andy stopped tittering.
“You know anything about the girl, old man?” Andy asked. He should have thought of that before Oscar suggested it. He was getting caught up in the moment and forgetting the task at hand.
“You better kill me or you going to regret ever crawling out of your mama’s old chewed-up cunt,” Buddy Lee said. Andy blinked rapidly a few times.
“My mama’s cunt, huh? Say hi to your son for me,” Andy said. He cocked the hammer on the Colt and pointed it at Buddy Lee’s face. Buddy Lee felt like he was tumbling into the barrel like it was a bottomless mine shaft. Andy pressed the barrel against his cheek. Buddy Lee closed his eyes. He hoped he would see Derek, but he wasn’t sure they were going to be spending eternity in the same place.
A deafening crash echoed from the back of the house.
“What the fuck was that? You got somebody here with you, old man? Oscar, go check it out,” Andy said. Oscar licked on his bottom lip.
“I didn’t bring a gun,” he said.
“Tough titty. Now go check it out,” Andy said. Oscar wiped his face, then studied his hand. Blood was smeared across his palm like Sanskrit.
“Yeah. Tough titty alright,” he said. The big man lumbered down the hall like Godzilla. Had the light been on in the hall when they first entered? Oscar couldn’t remember. It was off now. He flicked a switch on the wall and nothing happened. His breath came in quick irregular gulps. His nose was beyond fucked up. He couldn’t even force air through it. He descended into the shadows.