The Dead

The afternoon sun blinds Marty after a night of bingeing; his tattered pants hang loosely around his hips. Clara walks sleepily behind him and wraps her arms around his middle and helps him fasten his belt as he polishes off the dregs of something strong in his cup. The parking lot out side of the Tin Cantina is relatively empty giving him full view of the Sacramento waste lands. Weed filled piles of rubble line either side of the long road leading out to Dead Mans highway, some old timers like to say that they used to be houses.

Marty walks down the white steps and turns to see Kurtis stumbling out of the archway held up by the black beauty and the blond. His white hat and suit still pristine he takes a long hit from a rolled cigarette and tosses it away. Pulling out a wad of money he hands it to the black beauty and walks down to meet Marty.

“Where’s my fucking car,’ Kurtis yells out to the parking lot, “I’ll take you down to Novato where I keep a garage, take what ever cab you need and meet Deflect at the gates.”

“Sounds good boss.”

“Where’s Hog Tied with my goddamn car?” Kurtis spits on the ground as his long white car makes its way to them, the thug in the driver’s seat.

Taking one last look at the white pillared with its enormous dome sitting atop a drum of arch windows Marty gets into the back with the boss. They zoom though the rust laden fence and away from the Tin Cantina. The road to Dead Mans highway is lonely except for a few cabs and the occasional Dead Ones, the guns for hire for almost all gangs and the lackeys of the Dead Men.

Stopping at the entrance to the high way a bearded Dead Man walks to the driver’s window and they do their dealing. On the other side a Dead one admires the car and starts to fiddle with the side mirror, Kurtis rolls down his window and curses at him, the dead one acknowledges him with a finger. The boss looks at Marty nods at the door; Marty slides out and walks over to the Dead One.

“Hands off the car shit stain,” he says looking around, another Dead Man sits under the shade of tree watching them.

“Fuck you old man, suck my dick,” the boy says pulling out his pistol.

Marty grabs him by his thin neck and shoves his .45 into the boy’s mouth, “mines thicker you fuck, now if you have anything else to say, say it now.”

The Dead Man under the tree stands but doesn’t make a move for his rifle. Feeling ballsy the Dead One throws a punch that lands squarely on Marty’s jaw but doesn’t rattle him at all. Poor kid gets a boot in the nuts and hit’s the ground sputtering, pulling back the hammer Marty looks over at the Dead Man making the deal with Hog Tied, he shrugs. The bullet smashes into the asphalt and the Dead One doesn’t move. Done with the transaction the bearded Dead Man makes his way under the tree.

Back in the car Marty finds Kurtis fast asleep, “fucking owl I tell you.”

answer to the last ‘Dingleberry, Fart, Cooch’…. don’t judge me. Have a good weekend!