Blacktop Wasteland

by S. A. Cosby

  Beauregard didn’t say a word.

  “Answer him,” Burning Man said.

  “No,” he said.

  Lazy got up and walked around behind Beauregard. He bent down and put his mouth near his ear.

  “I asked around about you, boy. They say you could outrun the devil on the highway to Hell,” Lazy said. He straightened up. “But no matter how much I like your style, boys, and God knows y’all get points for style, I can’t let something like that slide. I mean, you stole from me and now I must be compensated,” Lazy said in a sing-song cadence. He sounded like a Baptist preacher during a tent revival.

  He pointed at Wilbert. The big man left the room. He returned a few minutes later with five cereal boxes. He dumped the contents of the boxes onto the desk. Bundles of cash spilled across the desk like the bounty from a fall harvest.

  “You boys must have had a good fence. Take your cuts and add them to what ol’ Ronnie had left, you must’ve gotten something like $700,000 on three million. That’s a good return,” Lazy said.

  Beauregard and Quan glared at Ronnie. Lazy burst out laughing.

  “Lawd, he shorted y’all? That’s a damn shame,” he said. He walked around to face them. “Now we got Ronnie and Jenny’s cut. Quan didn’t have enough to really bother with, but we took it anyway. Beauregard, you lucked out. I ain’t gonna have my boys roust your house looking for your slice. I suspect you ain’t dumb enough to keep it on you. And at this point it don’t really matter. Even if we had it all, y’all still be behind. Now if this was any day, y’all asses would be dead as the bacon I had for breakfast,” Lazy said.

  He sat back down in his chair. Beauregard felt this was all building to a “but.” If he was gonna kill them, he wouldn’t have gathered them all together for a staff meeting. Lazy wanted something. He wanted it bad.

  “However, God has smiled on you today. Yessir, you fellas done crossed my path at a time I have need of some boys with a special set of skills,” Lazy said. Beauregard recognized the line from some stupid action movie a few years back. “I know it seems impossible cuz I’m such a charming fella, but I’m having some problems with a boy from North Carolina. We having a disagreement about who runs what round these parts. And I got to give it to him, that boy been giving me all I can handle down there. But I’m gonna win. Cuz all he got is soldiers. I got family,” Lazy said. He nodded to his men. They nodded back.

  “One of his soldiers got himself a nasty meth habit. Now as fate would have it, the boy he owes is one of mine. In exchange for his debt, the soldier told me a lil secret. His boss got a shipment coming through the Carolinas. A truckload of platinum that ain’t even supposed to be on this side of the country,” Lazy said. He held his hands out in supplication.

  “This where you fellas come in. You gonna get that shipment for me. Now it ain’t gonna be easy. This ol’ boy got lots of firepower and he don’t give two tight fucks about showing it off. And if that soldier is right, this here shipment is a big deal for him. Losing it would hurt him something fierce. So, you know he gonna fight for it like a dog on a bone. But if you get it, well then, I’ll call us even,” Lazy said.

  That’s a lie, Beauregard thought.

  “How’s that sound, fellas? I guess y’all a part of the family now,” Lazy said.

  “You got the route and the time? Do you know how many cars he got riding with the truck? You say he got firepower, so I’m gonna assume he got cars riding shotgun,” Beauregard said. He braced for the blow and this time it did come. A short rabbit punch right between his shoulder blades. He gripped the sides of the chair. A bolt of lightning ran down his back to his left thigh, but he didn’t fall.

  “Honestly, that’s a good question, Beauregard. Really it is. But our family works like a real family. I’m your Daddy now. And you don’t speak unless I tell you to,” Lazy said.

  He pulled on the backrest of the chair and leaned back until two of the legs came off the floor. He balanced there for a second before putting all four legs back on the ground.

  “The other thing we don’t do in this family is run our mouths. We ride together, and we die together. And we never ever snitch on members of the family. Ever,” Lazy said. He ran a hand through his wild rat’s nest.

  “Beauregard, you wanna guess which one of your partners gave you up? Jenny told us all about Ronnie and Quan, but she didn’t know shit about you. We wouldn’t have never found you if one of them hadn’t ran they mouth. I’ll give you a hint. It’s the same boy who been running his mouth at the strip club about how he had to drop some fool during a robbery,” Lazy said.

  Beauregard didn’t respond. He didn’t need the hint. Ronnie might have been a cheat, but he wasn’t a snitch.

  “Oh Jesus,” Quan moaned.

  “I doubt you gonna see him,” Lazy said.

  Billy pulled out his gun. A small black .38. He shot Quan in the face three times. Each report sounded like a cannon inside the small room. Beauregard felt warm droplets rain against the right side of his face. Quan slid out of the chair and collapsed onto his side. His head landed at Beauregard’s feet. Quan’s whole body shuddered. He let out one wet gasp, then was still.

  “Goddamn, man!” Ronnie screamed. A ham-sized fist slammed into the side of his head. He went flying and landed against the desk. No one moved to pick him up this time.

  “That boy was like a broke icebox. Couldn’t keep shit. Fellas like that ain’t good for nothing except target practice,” Lazy said.

  Beauregard didn’t look down at Quan’s body or at Ronnie’s prone form on the floor. He stared at a spot on the wall behind the desk.

  “Pick him up, will you?” Lazy said. Carl grabbed Ronnie and sat him in the chair again. Lazy scooted his chair forward until the legs were pressed against Quan’s thighs.

  “Here’s the thing, boys. You owe me. So, you gonna get this done. Cuz if you don’t, I’ll kill everyone you love. I’ll do it front of you and I’ll do it slow. Maybe I’ll have Burning Man light ’em up. Maybe I’ll have the boys beat ’em to death with hammers. It don’t really matter how, just know they gonna end up dead. And you’ll join them. I promise you that. My word is my bond,” Lazy said. He got up and put his hands on his knees. He locked eyes with Bug then turned his attention to Ronnie then back to Bug.

  “I can see the hate in your eyes, boys. That’s fine. Hate me all you want. If you wracking your brains for a way to get at me, let that shit go. If God couldn’t kill me when I was born, you two ain’t gonna do it now. You try anything funny and I’ll make you choose which one of your loved ones get they throat cut first,” he whispered. He stepped back and clapped Billy on the shoulder.

  “Burning Man here is gonna give you the info on the route and the day and time. You gonna get a throwaway phone with one number on it. When it’s done, and I mean as soon as it’s done, you call that number. Other than that, I think we finished here,” Lazy said.

  “Get up,” Billy said. Beauregard and Ronnie rose. Jim Bob pushed them toward the door.

  “Get to walking, Rock and Roll,” Billy said.

  Ronnie blinked. His eyes began to water but at last he began to walk. Beauregard looked over his shoulder at Lazy then followed Ronnie out the door.

  * * *

  When they were gone, Wilbert and the kid got a tarp from behind the crates and wrapped up Quan’s body. Carl helped them. After they had the body wrapped up, Wilbert turned to the kid. “Go get the van.”

  The kid jogged out the front door. Wilbert started gathering the rolls of cash. Carl moved the three chairs back to the corner near the crates.

  “We could take that truck,” Carl said.

  “Yeah, we could, but then Shade would know we got a man on the inside. Let them boys try and get it. He sees a mixed-race crew he won’t put it on us. He thinks all we are is a bunch of backwoods racist rednecks,” Lazy said.

  “Ain’t we?” Carl said.

  Lazy smiled. “That’s beside the point.”

  The kid came back in
to the store. He and Wilbert carried Quan’s body out to the van. Lazy crossed his legs. Carl leaned against the wall. He knew Lazy was about to pontificate.

  “That truck gonna have more than a thousand pounds of platinum coils on it. We killing a bunch of birds with one stone. We keep our man on the inside. We put a dent in Shade’s pocket. We gonna get back triple what them boys pinched. And when they bring us the truck, I’m gonna let Burning Man turn them into fucking candles,” Lazy said.

  “You always got a plan, don’t you,” Carl said.

  Lazy smoothed his vest with his wide hands. “It’s like my Daddy used to say. While they picking apples, I’m planting seeds.”

  TWENTY-TWO

  The car dropped them off just off the exit.

  “Here’s the phone and the time and the route. You got a week,” Billy said. He handed Ronnie a flip phone and a scrap of paper through the window. Jim Bob spun his tires as he pulled away. Gravel flew up and nearly hit them. It was late. Beauregard checked his watch. Nearly five in the morning. The sky was still dark, but sunrise was just around the corner.

  “Bug, I didn’t know,” Ronnie said. Beauregard started walking. Ronnie trotted behind him. “I swear I didn’t fucking know. How could I? Bug, what are we gonna do?”

  He caught up with Beauregard and put his hand on his shoulder. Beauregard spun around and clamped both hands on Ronnie’s throat. He dragged him off the shoulder of the road and down into a ditch bed. Ronnie grabbed at Beauregard’s arms. He might as well have been trying to bend steel with his bare hands. Beauregard’s biceps stood out in sharp relief under the sleeves of his shirt. He put his full weight on top of Ronnie as he squeezed the life out of him. Ronnie tried to scratch at his eyes, but Beauregard’s arms were too long.

  “You … need … me…,” Ronnie squealed. It came out in a garbled mishmash, but Beauregard caught it. Ronnie’s eyes began to flutter in their sockets. Beauregard let him go and fell back against the ditch bank. Ronnie propped himself up on his left elbow. Rubbing his throat with his right hand, he coughed up a wad of phlegm and spit it on the ground. “It’s just you and me, Bug. We need each other if we gonna get out of this.”

  “Shut up. Just shut your mouth and listen for a minute. You know he ain’t gonna let us go, right? Even if we pull it off, he’s gonna kill us anyway. Just like he killed Quan. Just like he killed Jenny. Just like he killed that lady that was the manager. You heard what he said about the cops. He cleaning this shit up. The only reason we still alive now is because he wants that truck. And he’s scared of that guy he was talking about. That’s our ace in the hole. The truck and his fear,” Beauregard said.

  “You got a plan already?” Ronnie asked.

  “I been making a plan since he shot Quan,” Beauregard said.

  He climbed up the ditch bank and resumed walking down the road. Ronnie waited a few minutes before he fell in behind him. A tractor trailer passed them heading out of town at the same time Ronnie tried to ask Beauregard a question.

  “What?” Beauregard asked.

  “I said do you really think Jenny is dead?” Ronnie said.

  Beauregard kept walking. “Yeah,” he said.

  “I was supposed to go to the prom with her when we was in school. I got expelled the week before the dance. I waited for her out in the parking lot after it was over. When she came out of the school, the light from the hallway lit her up from behind. She looked like a redheaded angel. I guess she a real angel now,” Ronnie said.

  Beauregard didn’t respond. The sound of their footsteps on the gravel that lined the shoulder filled the space between them.

  “This plan you got, do it include killing these motherfuckers?” Ronnie asked.

  Beauregard put his hands in his pockets. “Yeah.”

  “They bad, ain’t they, Bug? They some bad motherfuckers, ain’t they?” Ronnie asked.

  “They think they are. But they bleed like everybody else.”

  They got back to Danny’s by eight. Beauregard gave Ronnie a ride back to his trailer.

  “Give me the route information,” Beauregard said.

  He had parked his truck behind Reggie’s car. Ronnie rooted around in his pocket and pulled out the scrap of paper.

  “I’m going to call you tomorrow. We gonna need at least two other people. Can Reggie roll with us?” Beauregard asked. Ronnie shrugged, then slid his fingers through his hair.

  “I dunno. He can drive. He ain’t no good with a gun, though. And he wouldn’t bust a grape in a food fight,” he said.

  “If it goes the way I figure, all he gonna have to do is drive. I’ll call you tomorrow,” Beauregard said.

  Ronnie got out of the truck. He leaned on the car door. The passenger’s window had been lowered all the way. “Bug, I swear if I had known that store belonged to somebody like this I would have never got y’all involved,” he said.

  The look Beauregard gave him made Ronnie shut his mouth with an audible plop. He stood up straight and backed away from the truck. He watched as Beauregard backed out of the driveway doing 35. When he hit the road, he whipped the truck around. He spun his tires as he drove off toward the horizon.

  Ronnie went into the trailer. Reggie was lying on the couch with his foot on the armrest. It was wrapped in duct tape and what appeared to be an old T-shirt. Ronnie slammed the door. Reggie sat up straight. He was holding Ronnie’s gun in his right hand. He swung the barrel around and aimed at the door.

  “Jesus H. Christ, butt munch, put the gun down,” Ronnie wailed.

  Reggie blinked his eyes a few times. “Ronnie! Holy shit, I’m sorry. I thought it was those guys coming back,” he said.

  Ronnie held out his hand to Reggie. Reggie didn’t move for a few seconds.

  “Oh yeah. Here, I don’t even know what to do with this thing,” he said as he gave Ronnie the gun.

  “Pull the trigger, dingbat,” Ronnie said.

  Reggie swung around and struggled to his feet. He hobbled over to his brother with unsteady steps. He threw his arms around him and squeezed him with unexpected strength.

  “I thought you won’t never coming back,” he whimpered in his ear.

  “What, and leave all this?” Ronnie said.

  Reggie released him, and Ronnie helped him back to the couch. Reggie plopped down, and Ronnie plopped right next to him. They both leaned their heads back against the backrest in eerily similar motions.

  “Ronnie, who were those guys?” Reggie said.

  “Trouble with a capital T,” Ronnie said. He closed his eyes tight. Sleep was creeping up on him like an assassin.

  “How’s your foot?” Ronnie asked.

  “The bullet went straight through. It must have missed the nerves and stuff because I can still wiggle my toes. I cleaned it out with some peroxide and tied it up with the tape.”

  “I know it hurt like a son of a bitch,” Ronnie said.

  “I had some Oxy left. So, ya know. It’s okay right now,” Reggie said.

  Ronnie rubbed his forehead. “Reggie.”

  “Yeah.”

  “How did they know the money was in the cereal boxes?”

  “They came in waving guns, Ronnie. I … just blurted it out. I’m sorry. Is that what they wanted, though? The money?”

  Ronnie snorted.

  “Nah. They want everything, Reggie. They want everything we fucking got.”

  * * *

  Beauregard parked next to Kia’s car. The sun was up, and the grass glistened with dew. He got out of the truck and walked into the house. It was deathly quiet. He headed for the bedroom.

  He slipped into the room without turning on the light. He was stripping off his shirt when the lamp on the nightstand came on.

  “Where the fuck you been?” Kia asked. She was wearing one of his T-shirts and nothing else.

  “Something came up,” he said.

  “And you couldn’t call?”

  “No,” he said.

  She knitted her brow as she appraised him.

 
; “Bug, there’s blood on your face,” she said. She sounded far away, like she was speaking through tin cans tied with a string.

  “It’s not mine,” he said. He pulled his shirt off and stepped out of his pants. He slipped out of the room and went to the shower. He took off his underwear and socks and let the shower run so the water could warm up. He stepped over the edge of the tub and let the water hit him full on in the face.

  He was just starting to lather up when the shower curtain was pulled back so hard a few of the rings popped loose.

  “Bug, what the fuck is going on?” Kia said. The water splashed over her face and chest, soaking the T-shirt.

  “Nothing you need to worry about.”

  “It’s got to do with that job, don’t it? I told you! I fucking told you to leave it alone. Sell that goddamn car, but no, you wouldn’t listen. Now you come in here after being gone all night with somebody’s blood on your face,” she hissed.

  The hiss became a sob. Beauregard grabbed her and pulled her into a tight embrace.

  “I’m going to handle it. I promise,” he said. She pushed him away. He studied her face. She was still crying, but the tears were lost in the water that was raining down on them both.

  “You always say you going to handle it. But I was here last night waiting for a call saying you was dead. You ain’t handling it if I end up a widow,” she said. “I know you was pissed at me for talking to Jean but it was true. Do you know how many times I’ve planned your funeral in my head? You gonna handle it. How can you stand there and say that to me with a straight face?”

  Beauregard turned off the water. He stepped out of the shower. Kia took a step backwards. He reached around her and grabbed a towel. He wiped his face and chest, then hung the towel back on the rack.

  “Because I always do,” he said finally.

  TWENTY-THREE

  Kelvin raised his hand to get the waitress’s attention. She came strutting over in her too-tight jeans and too-short T-shirt.

  “What ya need, boo?” she asked.

  “Two beers,” Kelvin said.