Fistful of Feet by Jordan Krall Page B

gun in his back. He turned his head to look at Chaps and saw that he was on the floor, bloody.
       “Okay, asshole, you win. We’re going.” He turned slowly towards the door.
       “That’s right. You’re going,” Calamaro said. “But not through the door.”
       “What? You must be fucking kidding me.”
       Calamaro pushed the gun into his back hard. “That’s right. Jump. I’ll send your other boy after you.”
       “There’s no way in hell.” Nix was getting cocky but it ended as soon as the pistol slammed into the back of his head. “Okay, okay.”
       “Go ahead. Fly like an angel. You can try to land on your friend down there, maybe cushion your fall.”
       Nix climbed halfway out the window and saw Ryan moving. The stumps that had been his legs were smoking but he was definitely still alive and conscious. In fact, he was screaming for his mother. Nix yelled down at him. “Watch out!”
       He jumped out of the window and landed right next to Ryan. Nix felt a bone break but wasn’t sure if it was his arm or leg. Then he felt the pain in his knee. From above he heard a yelp and as soon as he looked up, Chaps landed on him ass first.
       Calamaro stuck his head out of the window, the cigarette back in his mouth.
       All three men on the ground looked up at him as he spoke.
       “Feel free to drop by anytime, boys. I’ll be waiting.”
       

 
    CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
       
       Sheriff Doyle heard the door open but did not look up from his newspaper. It was probably just another person complaining about the Hard Candy Kid. There was nothing anyone was going to do about it because the Kid was the meanest son of a bitch in the territory.
       “Help you?” the sheriff said, still reading.
       “Yes. You can start by putting down that fucking newspaper.”
       Sheriff Doyle’s eyes widened as he put the newspaper down and turned in his chair. It was William Lyons.
       “Sorry, didn’t know it was you,” Doyle said.
       “So what? What if I was some nigger or Mexican coming in to kill you, what then? You just go on reading your newspaper while you get your throat cut by some dirty cocksucker?”
       Doyle nodded his head. “You’re right, you’re right. I’m just tired is all.”
       “Well I’m tired and pissed off. Was spending time with my boys when Nix came by and told me there was some sort of stranger in town making trouble. I don’t like taking time away from my family to deal with this shit.”
       “So why didn’t you tell Nix to deal with it himself? He’s good with a gun, ain’t he?”
       “Sometimes it’s easier to just treat Nix and his boys like little babies. If I let them handle it, they’re bound to fuck it up and give me a bigger headache.”
       Doyle pulled out a cigar and offered it to Lyons who shook his head, waving his hand away. “You know I don’t smoke.”
       “I forgot,” Doyle said. “I still don’t know why you keep those boys around anyway.”
       “I have my reasons.”
       “So what’d you want me to do? I can’t just go arrest him. You know we’ve been having some government assholes sticking their noses in my business, checking out how the town is run and how the jail is run, all that shit.”
       “You don’t have to arrest him, just warn him. Last time I checked you were the law, right?”
       Doyle stood up. “I’ll take care of it, don’t you worry.”
       “I’m not the one who should be worried.”
       The sheriff laughed, thinking that Lyons was referring to the stranger. Then the laughter faded when he realized that Lyons had meant to threaten him. “I’ll take care of it.”
       “Okay then,” Lyons said as he walked out.
       Sheriff Doyle picked up the newspaper, threw it back down, and cursed. That William Lyons was really something. The man walked in as if he was the sheriff. Doyle figured there was no use fighting it,