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| The Boss's Daughter | Started by: Deadpool on Apr 18, '09 19:00 |
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I stepped out of the cab, onto the streets of what looked to be your standard pissant midwestern shithole. The cabbie, whose name was Mario, seemed a bit out of place. His English was broken, at best, and he seemed genuinely pleased that I could speak to him in Italian. When I had asked him why he was in Lansing, he sighed and talked about his family in Sicily, the money he was sending to them, and avoiding the U.S. Immigration service. When I exited the cab, he refused my money, happy that someone could finally have a conversation with him. It was night in Lansing and the place was as hopping as it ever was, I suppose. As Mario began to pull away, a drunk staggered into me and knocked me down, landing on top of me. I heard the brakes on the cab squeal and Mario jumped out, swearing at the drunk in Italian. "Don't worry, my friend. I'll take this lousy drunkard home," he said. I helped him load the guy in the cab. When I pushed the unconscious drunk back into the seat, he grabbed my necktie and pulled me close to his face. "Fat Charlie." That's all he said. Then he passed out again. Mario was behind the wheel, ready to go. I looked down at my tie and noticed a stain on it. The stain had spread across my white shirt like red paint spilling across a canvas. I realized that I was covered in blood that wasn't mine. I think Mario must have realized it at the same time, because he hit the accelerator, jerking the cab into motion. My feet were still on the concrete and, had the tires not spun, the cab would have left me standing on the sidewalk. As it was, I got one foot inside before the cab was flying down the street. Half in, half out, I yelled at Mario in English. "Damn it! Stop the damn car! Stop!" My nails dug into the upholstery of the back of the front seat, as I desperately tried to hold on. He rounded a corner and the bleeding man fell over on me, breaking my grip. We both fell from the cab, onto the street. I could see the taillights disappear in the distance as I bounced across the pavement. "Shit, shit, shit." I hauled myself to my feet and did a quick inventory of my body parts. Nothing seemed broken, but I was already sore as hell. I had landed on my right side and somehow avoided hitting my head. I realized that I was bleeding in several places, but my clothes were somehow unharmed. I took off my jacket and saw a small stain beginning to blossom from my shoulder and my elbow. My hand had lost some skin as well, but at least it wasn't bleeding. I could feel that my hip and my knee were bleeding, too, but it wasn't too serious. Ahead of me on the road, I could see the other passenger of the cab. I limped over to him and rolled him over. He was dead before he hit the road, I could tell that much. He had landed pretty much face first on the pavement, which had done a number on his head. I could see exposed skull in places where the skin had been worn away by the road. His nose was askew, but there wasn't any blood, so he had all but bled to death prior to being ejected from the cab. I looked around and noticed a general lack of lights nearby. "Fuck." I groaned a bit as I hefted his body over my shoulder and I began to limp toward the direction from which we had come. When I got back to the main road, I dropped him and sat to catch my breath. A truck immediately pulled over. "You alright, buddy?" The driver looked concerned. I wanted to tell him that, yes I was alright, I fell out of cars daily and I enjoyed the sport of carrying around corpses. But I was hurting and I didn't have the energy to be a smartass. "No." He got out and, as much as I could, I told him my story. He helped me load the dead guy in the back of the truck, then helped me into the cab. I prepared myself for the obligatory hospital visit as we pulled up to a pool hall. I looked at the driver, confused, and he pointed a gun at me. "Get out. Fat Charlie will want to see you." I got out of the cab and limped toward the door of the place. I went inside and the place went silent. "What is this? Why did you bring me here?" I was getting angry. My muscles protested as I walked, the air stung the wounds from the pavement, and these assholes had a gun on me. An obese, greasy looking man stepped forward. Between bites of a chili dog, he interrogated me. "Who are you? Why is my associate dead?" He slurped as he talked, trying to prevent the precious food from flying from his mouth as he talked. He was failing, horribly. "Say it, don't spray it, tons 'o fun." His face contorted in anger and he took a pool cue from the rack and broke it across my back. I fell to my knees. "Thar she blows! The white whale! 'Tis Moby Dick!" He hit me with the broken piece still in his hand. "Hey, boss, he told me what happened," the truck driver interjected. "He didn't kill Paulie. He was just there." He repeated my story as the fat man wiped sweat from his brow. The fat man walked over to me and leaned down to talk. "My apologies, sir. Enjoy your stay in Lansing. Throw him out of here, boys." Two gorillas came over to toss me out the door. I fell forward, onto my hands and knees, in the process, grabbing the other end of the broken pool cue. When they reached down to grab me, I busted one of them in the jaw with the rounded end and stabbed the other one in the gut with the broken end. I pulled the gun from my leg holster and trained it on the fat man's head. "Everyone calm the fuck down!" I was yelling, but I was in serious pain at this point. I heard countless guns cocking and I reiterated myself. "Drop the fucking guns or start digging a bigass grave!" "Drop 'em, boys." The fat man was calm. I heard guns hit the floor and I started talking. "I don't know how I got into this, but I'm here now. Your dead friend fell on me. Bled on me. Then some asshole cabbie tossed me on the pavement, with your buddy. I dragged his ass back to the highway and this is the thanks I get? A beating by Jumbo the Elephant and working over by those two assholes?" The guy I had stabbed had stopped moving, the other guy was still out cold. "Well, guess what, Lardass? I'm not some hick from around these parts. I'm from L.A. And I want to know about a truck robbery that happened about a month ago. Truckload of whiskey. They found the driver and all four men on board dead, executed in a garage around here. Start talking." The fat man waved, people picked up their guns and he sat at a table, gesturing for me to join him. "What's it to you, Mister...?" "People call me Deadpool. And the truck belonged to my boss. It had a valuable cargo. I want to collect for the cargo." "I didn't realize that L.A. ran booze this far east. Hmmm. Well, the truck job wasn't mine. In all, there were four trucks hit last month. Your whiskey truck, my weapons truck, a truck full of smokes that belonged to Marietta Rossi, and another truck that belonged to the Army. Yours and mine were the only trucks manned past a driver, but whoever hit them killed everyone on all of them." To be continued... |
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| Excellent story. | |
| Reply by: Fever at Apr 18, '09 21:39 | |
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| Very enthralling. I can't wait to hear the next part. | |
| Reply by: Ember at Apr 18, '09 21:50 | |
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| Hey its very good but what happened to mario and why did he throw you out from his cab? | |
| Reply by: BigAl at Apr 19, '09 02:05 | |
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| Brava, brava! | |
| Reply by: GinoCeaser at Apr 19, '09 04:34 | |
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| Good story, looking forward to part 2. | |
| Reply by: Skitzo at Apr 19, '09 06:20 | |
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| Great story can'y wait till part 2 comes out | |
| Reply by: The-Hit-Man at Apr 19, '09 13:29 | |
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| very nice read cant wait for it to continue | |
| Reply by: TDK at Apr 19, '09 13:39 | |
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| Very good man I look forward to reading your next piece. | |
| Reply by: CrazyRoss at Apr 19, '09 22:36 | |
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