2 Dog River Blues by Mike Jastrzebski Page B

don’t want to kill Fish, Uncle Roy. We just want to talk to him.”
    Ignoring Jessica, Roy grabbed one of the forty-fives and handed it to me.
    “You know how to use one of these?” he asked.
      I ejected the clip, checked the load, and slid it back in place. “I learned to shoot on one of these. Haven’t shot one in years, though.”
    Roy grabbed its twin and tucked it into the back of his pants. “Don’t worry about it. It’s just like riding a bicycle. Once you learn, you never forget.”
    “Kind of a cliché for a writer, isn’t it?” I asked.
    “I’m full of them. Have to watch myself every time I sit down to write.” He started to swing the safe door shut and Jessica grabbed his arm.
    “Hey. What about me?”
    “You’re staying right here with Dwayne.” Roy slammed the door and turned the key to emphasize his point.
    “Like hell I am.” Jessica grabbed Roy’s arm and tugged on it until he turned to face her. “I’m going. With or without a gun, with or without your permission. You know I can shoot, Uncle Roy. You taught me.”
    “No.” Roy tried to stare her down, and then he wilted. He dropped his eyes to the floor, his huge shoulders slumped, and when Jessica held out her hand he handed over his keys.
    Jessica reopened the safe, took out one of the small automatics, closed it back up and handed the keys back to Roy. Without a word she stepped around us and strutted across the floor and out into the night.
    I followed Jessica, and when I got to the door I looked back at Roy. He hadn’t moved from in front of the safe and seemed to be trying to figure out what had just happened. “You coming?” I asked.
    Roy slid the keys into his pocket and hurried across the room to join me. “She’s something else, isn’t she?”
    “Yes, she is,” I said. I just hoped she didn’t get that cocky with Fish Conners.

     

 
    Chapter 11

    We drove along Highway 188 for about twenty minutes before Roy ordered Jessica to slow down. He rolled down his window and leaned into the wind and there was something feral about the way he shifted his head back and forth as he studied the terrain, as if he were sniffing out a trail. We crossed a railroad track and he pulled his head back inside the car and said, “Make a right at the next turnoff and turn off your lights, then pull over.”
    Jessica did what Roy asked and as we climbed out of the car the first tentative drops of rain splashed on the hood. The woods around us had a damp, earthy smell, like a graveyard after a storm, and the temperature had fallen twenty degrees. The hooded sweatshirt I wore provided little comfort against the night chill that surrounded me. As I drew the hood over my head and shoved my hands into my pockets I was filled with misgivings.
    Roy held up his right hand. “No talking,” he said. “Sound carries in these woods.” Drawing a flashlight from beneath his jacket he pointed it toward the ground in front of us. “Even a loud whisper could give us away.”
    Falling in line behind Jessica, I kept my eye on the bouncing flicker of Roy’s flashlight as we slipped through the woods. For a moment I lost the bobbing light, only to spot it several feet to my left.
    Around me I could hear the soft scrapings of animals I couldn’t see. Jessica jumped and let out a whimper when an owl screeched. Wood smoke drifted along the night breeze and my nose twitched as it picked up the offensive spoor of a skunk.
    The rain pelted us and the trees no longer offered protection. My clothes were soaked and the muscles in my neck and back took on a life of their own, twitching and tightening as they responded to the biting cold. Adding to my distress, the icy metal of the gun I’d earlier tucked into my belt rubbed against my hip. Overhead, a stunning lightning show jousted with the earth’s surface like a barrage of anti-aircraft fire.
    Preoccupied with my misery, I almost stumbled into Jessica before realizing that she and Roy had stopped at