MUSICAroLina

by Daniel William Gunning

  “Oh yeah, we got a serious problem with this, Kurt.”

  “That’s what I was hoping you’d say. So, what are we going to do about it then, John?”

  “I’ll tell ya what we’re gonna do. We are going to find out exactly what this is all about and more importantly, who’s responsible for it. Then what we’re going to relish in doing is we’re going to make every last one of them pay dearly for it, and the price tag is going to be far, far greater than a simple pound of their flesh.”

  “That’s all I wanted to hear. I assume you have already formulated a diabolical master plan then?”

  “Well, just off the top of my head I think I’ll make some inquiries and figure out the total scope of this little job tonight.”

  “Inquiries?”

  “Yeah, and by that I mean, I’m going back to the guy that gave us this job in the first place. I’m going to ask him politely why I just handed over a truckload of human beings to a bunch of Neanderthal henchmen, and then I’m going to redecorate his office with what little brain matter he has in that tiny weasel-y skull of his with a simple, but classic bullet to the brainpan, squish. I’m sentimental like that.”,

  “Sounds good and surprisingly domesticated; so what do you need me to do?”

  “Go get Mac and as many explosives as you and that little pyro can get your hot little hands on; whatever we’re gonna do next, I want it to be truly epic. I want there to be a glorious rain of hellfire and I want there to be honest to God brimstone. I desire nothing more than to literally burn into the hearts and minds of the less reputable of the criminal underworld for generations to come exactly what happens to men that cross this particular line.”

  “I don’t want you to take this the wrong way, but you’re kind of making me hot right now.”

  “Just get the explosives. Let me worry about who we are really going to make hot.”

  ***

  John, Kurt, and now Mac, stood in the very warehouse where they had been just a few days before. They had driven John’s car inside one of the smaller docks and now stood next to it. The car’s headlights gave them enough light to see each other by. John leaned casually on an axe next to a large support beam. He explained, “So, that’s the deal then, guys; that’s all I got for you. I’ve caved in as many deserving skulls as I can, but unfortunately carnage and mayhem can only get you so far and this one is frankly more than a little beyond us. We are not in control this time; we are completely out of our element. These are far deeper waters than we are used to swimming in.”

  “So that’s really the best plan, we’ve got then? We’re going to rob a bank, but not rob it? Can’t we steal even just a little for ourselves?” Mac asked.

  “No. It’s cool, Mac; in fact, I like it. It’s completely nuts, and for once the cops will be working for us. They just won’t know it. Man, I bet when they find out, they’ll feel like a bunch of tools. Oh, I wish I could see their faces when they finally figure it all out. I’ll bet they’ll be fit to be fried.” Kurt laughed.

  “Fried?” Mac asked.

  “Yeah. You know, because they’re bacon?” Kurt replied, grinning. John and Mac just groaned at Kurt’s failed attempt at humor and rolled their eyes.

  “Well, if we’re done with all this levity, and if I may be allowed to continue, it goes without saying, amigos, that we’ll be ticking off some extremely powerful and awfully dangerous people here. If you guys are really in, we’ll be running for the rest of our lives; make no doubt about it. Even though we do have the advantage of a good head start, since they’ve provided us with a handy getaway tunnel, and they’ve disabled any form of surveillance the police could use around this building so their dirty little business here could go on unobserved. My brother is already acquiring us some new IDs and a clean vehicle. I’ve managed to convince all the people involved in this unsavory enterprise into making some rather sizable donations to our retirement fund. Strangely enough, right before they all met with an untimely and rather gruesome demise.”

  “You mean, like that guy?” Mac asked, pointing to the scarred thug they had met on this very spot, on that terrible night. He was but a stone’s throw away from where the three stood. The goon was thoroughly bound, gagged, and secured to one of the other nearby support beams. Blood was slowly spreading across his shirt, seeping from several bullet holes.

  “Oh, yeah. I forgot all about him. What’s he doing still alive?” John asked.

  “Must of been a slight oversight on your part, don’t worry. I’ll fix it,” Mac said, quickly grabbing the axe away from John. Before John could lift a finger in protest, Mac strode over to the thug, who had no time to react as Mac brought the axe up and sent it smashing back down directly onto his neck. Warm blood sprayed into the cool night air, splattering across Mac’s face and clothing, and an almost imperceptible amount of steam curled up from the gaping wound.

  A blood-soaked Mac turned back to John and Kurt like nothing important had just occurred, while they in turn stared back at the grisly sight. “What?” Mac asked.

  Kurt cocked his head to the side and said, “Not to criticize your work or anything, pal, but you didn’t quite get it all the way off there, Mac.” Mac turned back to look at his handiwork and saw the head hanging at a ridiculous angle, still connected by the smallest bit of flesh.

  “Oh, for crying out loud,” John said, snatching the axe back from Mac. He then swung it down, severing the head completely this time and sending it toppling to the ground, then cheerily asked, “There that’s better, isn’t it? Now, as I was saying, we have all that going for us, but I won’t lie, survival is still a long shot. So, how ‘bout it? Are you guys in, or what?”

  “Well, you know me. I’m up for anything where I get to blow stuff up,” Mac responded.

  “Sure, why not? I mean, what’s the worst that could happen, right?” Kurt asked. With that said, they all piled back into John’s car and headed off through the dock entrance. Kurt got out and pulled down the bay door, locked it, and then jumped back in the car. They headed back toward the main road, leaving the scarred thug’s headless corpse behind tied to the beam. His severed head lay on the floor in the dark; its dead eyes stared out upon his compatriot’s corpses which were strewn about the warehouse, riddled with bullet holes.

  EPILOGUE

  Kurt traveled along, lost in his own thoughts, until he finally left the woods behind him. He didn’t nervously look for any sign of the wolves that had previously inhabited the forest; he knew in his heart of hearts that they were long gone along with the rest of the monstrous guardians of the lost colony. Therefore, he slowly, casually ambled back to the railroad tracks; as he reached them, he paused, there at the very edge of the tracks. Out of instinct or maybe pure curiosity, he looked both ways down the tracks; he half expected to see that cursed never-ending train barreling down the tracks toward him, coming to block his escape from this waking nightmare. However, this time there was nothing to be seen as far as the eye could see, save for the flat landscape and a few scattered trees.

  With a deep breath, Kurt closed his eyes and crossed over the tracks. He opened them again, on the other side and saw that he had safely entered the tiny town beyond. Here, in the daylight, the town no longer possessed that eerie quality that it had the night they’d first passed through. Of course, to be fair, after the town he’d just come from, it’d be hard for any other town to manage to scare him in the future, or anything at all for that matter. The town was small and quaint, but he didn’t look around much. He saw on his left Piper’s Place, the bar and grill they had passed on that fateful night. Kurt immediately turned and anxiously headed for it, suddenly remembering he hadn’t eaten in what seemed like years now.

  ***

  Kurt entered the small restaurant. He completely ignored the surprised and suspicious looks lingering on the faces of the people inside and sat down at the bar. Only a few patrons were inside the restaurant and most of them were clustered at tables near the back, surrounding a small s
tage with large speakers and a microphone. No one else was seated at the bar and that was just fine with him; he wasn’t much in the mood for conversation anyway. The bartender crossed over to him and asked in a deep, surly voice, “What do you want?”

  “Just water to start with for now, and a menu please, barkeep,” Kurt replied. The bartender nodded warily and handed him one of the menus he had stacked behind the bar. Kurt looked at it for a moment, but then, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed what was playing on the rather cheap-looking big screen TV that hung directly over the bar. “Hey, could you turn that up, please?” he asked. The bartender begrudgingly produced a remote and complied.

  The newscaster continued his story, “We have more fallout today from the bizarre bank robbery that took place a mere two days ago. Newly released details revealed that the crime in which three, as of yet still unidentified, gunmen broke in, took several hostages at gunpoint, opened the bank vault, and then proceeded to take none of the money or valuables therein, before disappearing through a secret tunnel has, today, believe it or not, taken an even more bizarre twist.

  It seems, according to investigators, that after the robbers set off an explosion, police entered to find the robbers had placed their hostages inside the vault for their own safety, even though the explosion was carefully designed by the criminals not to pose any immediate danger to the hostages. It appears that in addition to providing the hostages with an extra layer of protection from the vault walls, they were also protecting something else inside. The officers that entered the vault found, to their surprise, secreted away inside with the captives there, were over thirty young women, of varied ages, several barely teenagers, who had been sedated and hidden inside the vault by yet another group of criminals.

  Police investigators, working with the FBI and internal affairs, determined that the women were all victims of an elaborate human trafficking ring that operated out of the bank. As we now know, some of the victims had been kidnapped; some were sold by their drug-addicted parents, others are immigrants who were tricked into coming here with the promise of a better life, and still others were runaways that were snatched right off the streets. Apparently, the women were all brought into the bank through the same tunnel the gunmen used to facilitate their escape. The tunnel itself, which was cleverly concealed, led from the bank to an abandoned building that the bank owned across the street. They were then stored for safe keeping inside the vault until they could be auctioned off to the highest bidder.

  The whole scheme was apparently orchestrated by the bank manager, a Mr. William Myers, who was killed during the robbery, along with the criminals he had hired to guard the victims. The police and FBI have already made numerous arrests of other ring members, as well as several high profile, prominent citizens across the country who were involved in the auctions. Internal affairs officers have also arrested several police officers who were in league with the criminals. At this point the full extent of this criminal enterprise is not known, but the head of the FBI task force swears they will not rest until everyone responsible is brought to justice. Also unknown, at this time, is the fate of the three mysterious robbers, or their motives for uncovering the ring. Just as mysterious as the robbery itself, it appears that none of the hostages taken during this increasingly bizarre crime can seem to properly recount any physical details about their captors and every form of surveillance in the town went dark during these terrible events. Whether this is bizarre happenstance or the further machinations of the three as yet unknown gunmen is only speculation at this time. We will keep you updated as this bizarre story continues to unfold. Live on the scene; this is Keith Foster, Channel 13 News.”

  As the report ended, Kurt smiled weakly and breathed out a long sigh of relief. He closed his eyes and said a silent prayer to John, wherever he may be, telling his oldest friend that they had succeeded, that it had not all been in vain.

  The bartender brought him a glass of water and nodded at him. Kurt put down the menu and said, “Just bring me the largest steak you have and some fries. Actually, make that two steaks and a lot of fries.”

  “You got it, guy,” the bartender replied and then bustled off to relay the order to the kitchen. Kurt got up from his stool and headed for the men’s room.

  Once inside, Kurt stood silently in front of the mirror. He now saw why the people had stared at him so oddly when he had first entered the building. He was an absolute mess. His clothes were filthy, covered with a mixture of ash, blood and dirt. He patted the dirt and ash away as best he could and attempted to wash some of the blood out with moistened paper towels. He then scrubbed his face, hands, and arms vigorously and tried in vain to properly dry his clothes with the hand dryer. When he was, at last, satisfied that he was as cleaned up as he could be given his current circumstances, he once again looked into that mirror. Overwhelmed with a mixture of emotions, as all those horrible events washed over him once again, Kurt began to cry, but this lasted only a moment and he regained his composure. He then ran cold water in the sink and splashed it on his face yet again, washing away the tears, but he soon stopped cold.

  Slowly, Kurt shut off the water and began to listen in abject terror. He began to hear strains of music wafting in from outside the bathroom door. Kurt looked nervously over at the door and swallowing hard, he gradually crossed over to it. He heard the music as it swelled up louder now as he approached the door. Fearfully, Kurt reached out a trembling hand and gripped the door handle. With a sense of ominous dread, but painful necessity, he slowly but surely turned the knob. Kurt took a deep breath, flung open the door, and stepped back out into the restaurant, ready for whatever may come.

  ***

  Kurt saw a man in ridiculous western clothing standing there on the stage. The speakers were blaring music and the rapidly-growing crowd was now getting rather boisterous.

  “All right y’all! I hope you’re ready for a real good time, because it’s karaoke night here at Piper’s Place, yeehaw!” the man enthusiastically yelled. With that, Kurt immediately took off running at top speed and barreled out the front door, not caring at all as the bewildered bartender and crowd watched his flight. He ran down the main street of that tiny town and he didn’t stop running until he could no longer see the lights of that town behind him. Kurt paid no attention to the direction in which he was headed, or what he passed by; he merely ran as long as he could, as hard as he could, heart pounding in his chest, panting for breath, until every last bit of strength was gone.

  When he could at last run no further, Kurt collapsed in front of a signpost. He lay there in the dirt, using the sign post to prop him up, wheezing as he desperately gasped for air. When he had managed to recover from this ordeal a bit, he sat up and looked around him. He could see a quiet little town stretched out in front of him, but he turned his attention when he heard a rustling in the trees and he looked to see several squirrels peering at him from the branches. Kurt stared at them with an odd fascination as he could swear they were looking directly at him, sizing him up. The squirrels chattered a bit to each other and then, as quickly as they had come, they scrambled out of sight as a rabbit hopped out from behind the tree.

  Kurt watched as the rabbit hopped steadily toward him. It looked right into his eyes. Then, unexpectedly, it growled, bared a razor-sharp mouthful of fangs and pulled a knife, it had somehow managed to conceal beneath itself. The rabbit wielded the knife with one paw as it leapt through the air straight at Kurt. Kurt had no time to respond as the angry, furry, ludicrous little missile launched itself at him. Then, with a deafening blast, the rabbit burst apart like a bloody water balloon. Blood, entrails, and gory chunks of rabbit flesh splattered across him. He spit out a bit of fur that had lodged in his mouth, which had been left agape from this sudden fantastic turn of events and wiped the blood from his eyes. He then turned to where the blast had originated and saw standing there, smoking shotgun in hand, Jamie.

  “You okay?” she asked. Kurt said nothing, completely taken aback
, still brushing off bits of bunny. “Yeah, it’s weird I know. It takes a bit of getting used to and you are new ‘round here and all, but rule number one is never, ever, trust the bunnies,” she said to him, dead serious.

  “What in the unholy petting zoo is going on!?” Kurt cried out, flustered.

  “Hey, I recognize that voice. You were one of the bank robbers, weren’t you?”

  “Um, yes, but that really doesn’t answer my question.”

  “Wasn’t trying to, although, small world, right? Hey, did the nice one with the serious drinking problem make it?”

  “No. He got decapitated by a demon,” Kurt replied, shocked that this bizarrely preposterous sentence almost sounded normal to him at this point.

  “Well, that’s a shame. I kind of liked him. I guess you’ll have to do, then.”

  “Excuse me, do for what?” Kurt asked, now just riding the tidal wave of insanity that his life had seemingly become.

  “I’m going to need a sidekick if I’m going to get out of here alive,” she replied as she produced a pistol and tossed it in the grass, at his feet.

  Kurt reluctantly picked it up and replied, “Why do I always have to be the sidekick?”

  “Well, a couple of reasons spring to mind, pal. One; you have absolutely no clue about what’s going on around here, and believe me, that is seriously fatal in this town. Two; I just had to rescue you, and from a bunny rabbit, no less, thusly making you the damsel in distress, therefore sidekick. Three; my gun is bigger. But, fourth and most importantly, I think; this is my story that I’m writing here, and ain’t nobody, nobody else going to be the hero of my story,” she stated, pumping the shotgun as if to emphasize her points. “Now come on, or I’ll leave you here for the bunnies,” she stated and started off toward the town.

  Kurt looked around, completely baffled. It was then that he noticed the signpost that he’d collapsed against. He read it and then said, “You have got to be kidding me.” The sign read “Welcome to Singcinnati.” He heard music begin to come drifting toward him from the direction of the town. He sighed, bowed his head, and said, “Well, here we go,” and he hurried off after Jamie, grumbling, “I swear, this better not turn into Musicarolina Two, Singcinnati. Boogaloo.”