The Hard Way
Page 34
It took a few minutes to transfer the hundred grand into her bank account, then she logged out, put on tennis shoes and walked outside to Angel’s work truck parked on the side of the garage. She pulled out, stopping at the edge of the parking lot. A pair of sunglasses were stuck in the passenger side visor. She put them on, the truck idling while she stared at the sun resting on the horizon. She looked both ways down the street. Except for a cat darting across the street into the field, it was empty. She pulled into the street.
And then stopped.
She backed the truck to the front of the garage, put it in park and ran inside, banging on the door of the Monte Carlo.
“Mickey, wake up,” she said, leaning through the open window.
He sat up. Pasty-eyed, hair sticking straight up and with breath that could kill, but he was awake. He moaned, holding his head.
Julia opened the door and helped him out. “I just wanted to say goodbye,” she said, hugging him.
Mickey stepped back. “Hang on,” he said. “Let me get cleaned up and get some aspirin and coffee in me before you leave.”
“I can’t wait,” she said. “I have to go. I promised Angel.”
“Just one minute,” said Mickey.
She shook her head, hugged him once more and turned away. Tears welled as she walked away, but she didn’t look back, even though she could hear Mickey following her. She got in the truck, put her sunglasses on and pulled into the street.
“Take care of yourself,” shouted Mickey.
She looked in the rearview mirror as she drove, seeing Mickey wave from the middle of the street. She lifted her hand to return the wave and then lowered her hand.
She stomped the brakes, bringing the truck to a screeching standstill. Her gaze locked on the rear view mirror.
She put the truck in reverse, draped an arm over the back of her seat and sped backwards, zipping by Mickey, the engine whining as she drove toward the figure in jeans and a white tee shirt. He was blocks away, walking down the street with a red gym bag slung over his shoulder. The first waves of heat shimmered off the blacktop, giving him the wiggle of an illusion. He turned into hard reality as she got closer.
The truck squealed to a stop. She threw the door open and jumped out, her feet pounding the street. She jumped into Curtis’s chest and hugged him. He dropped the gym bag and grunted in pain, but he didn’t stop her. He held her tight with one arm, lifted her and gave her a weak twirl. She kissed his neck, tasting blood and sweat.
“You did it,” she said, burying her face against him.
“Take it easy,” he croaked. “You’re gonna kill me.”
She stopped hugging him, but she couldn’t take her hands off him. She had to touch him. His arms. His shoulders. His face. She kissed him and looked him over. He looked terrible. Beat to hell. Her breath caught in her throat. “Oh my God, what happened to your hand?”
His right hand was covered in blood from his elbow to his closed fist. A thick, wet drop dripped from his fist to the street, followed by another.
He lost his balance and reached for her.
“Sorry,” he said as she caught him. “Just dizzy. Couldn’t even ride Angel’s bike.”
“But your hand.”
She looked at his bloody hand. He opened it and dropped something. It slapped the blacktop. She looked closer, then shifted her gaze to Curtis.
“Somebody opened his big mouth at the wrong time,” he said.
Julia swallowed, took a breath and exhaled through pursed lips. “Is he still—”
“Nobody’s gonna give us a problem ever again,” said Curtis. He picked up the gym bag. “Get me to Angel’s. I need to sleep.”
She helped him in the truck and got behind the wheel. He put the gym bag on the seat between them.
“Did the money for the paintings come through?” he asked.
She nodded.
“Are Angel and my dad okay?”
She nodded again and looked at the red gym bag.
“Open it,” he said.
She unzipped it. A pair of busted glasses lay on top of stacks of money spattered with blood.
Curtis picked up the glasses. “Damn, Barry must’ve dropped his glasses,” he said, tossing them out the window. He leaned toward her and gave her a long, soft kiss.
# # # #
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LOW MAN is a chilling and uplifting tale of the enduring strength of family and the power of love by author TJ Vargo. This ForeWord Magazine Book of the Year Award-Winning novel was rewritten by the author in 2013 to, “make the story faster, scarier, and ultimately more fulfilling.” Described as reminiscent of the fiction of Frank Peretti, Stephen King and Dean Koontz, LOW MAN is a compelling journey through the afterlife that will keep you guessing until the very last page.
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Author’s Note
Hope you enjoyed THE HARD WAY. A couple things may interest you about this novel. The most interesting thing to me is that Part Two was written faster than anything I’ve ever written. From beginning to end, it took me six weeks to write. A few things contributed to this speed. First, the characters. It took me over a year to write Part One, but during that year I became completely familiar with the characters. They became real flesh and blood in my mind, which made the writing of Part Two so much easier than Part One. Knowing these people gave me the freedom to relax and just write, letting these characters do what they do so well, which is get themselves into heaps of bad trouble. For that, I have to thank Curtis Monroe, Julia Adriani, Fitz, Barry, Angel Silva, James Stockton, Sonny Bomba, Mickey Monroe, Duck, Joe Cracker Jones, and all the rest of the cast who made an appearance in the THE HARD WAY saga. They made the writing fun. The second thing that helped was the storyline. Something I struggle with is developing simple storylines. For some reason, I have a tendency to muck up simplicity. I know this story isn’t simple, but it did keep running straight towards the final confrontation, which brings me to the final piece of the puzzle—Joe Cracker Jones. I don’t know what to say about this guy. He’s bad. There is not one redeeming factor in him. And yet, it was a blast writing him. The simplicity thing explains part of it. Cracker is a simple man. He only lives to fight. To hurt. And to bury anyone who has the balls to face him. The best part is that this guy has the talent, strength and indomitable will to beat anyone, anywhere, anytime. It was a tough, tough decision putting Curtis into the cage with this
monster. I’m a huge fan of novels and movies where characters take on an insurmountable challenge, but I am also someone who does not cotton to bullshit scenarios where characters magically defeat their opponents. Reality, to me, takes precedence. People need to hurt and feel pain and, yes, die if they are injured severely enough. So I struggled with putting Curtis into the cage with Cracker, where I knew he would have to die. But I also knew I couldn’t shy away from it. So I just let it happen, and as is the case with most of my writing, something sparked in my memory as I wrote. I recalled a story I once read about a hunter who was attacked by a jaguar and… well, you know the rest of that story. I think, but I’m far from sure, that the hunter who faced the killer jaguar was Richard Capstone. If I’m right, you can look up some books about him and you might be able to find the story where I got my inspiration for the final fight scene in THE HARD WAY. Anyway, I was glad to see things come together the way they did. So what’s next? Well, I’m starting another novel. I’m in the final conceptualization stage, so things may change, but the main characters will be teenagers living in a very challenging future. That’s all I can say for now, but I’ll try to get something out on my blog as I move forward. A follow up to THE HARD WAY is also in the conceptualization stage, so if you’re a fan, hang in there—Curtis and Julia may have more trouble coming their way. Finally, for anyone interested in my creative process, music plays a big role. I can’t always write with music playing, but sometimes I use it for inspiration during certain scenes. There’s no way I could list all the songs that influenced me as I was writing, but here are a few songs that played a role in my process. See if you can figure out which scenes the following songs are connected to:
Florence and the Machine - Howl, Spectrum
Maroon 5 - One More Night, Daylight
The High Decibels - Miss Cindy, That Dude
The Rolling Stones - Gimme Shelter, Sympathy for the Devil
Lynrd Skynrd - Saturday Night Special
Bruce Springsteen - She’s The One, Jungleland
Foreigner - Long, Long Way From Home
London Beat - I’ve Been Thinking About You
Rick Astley - Never Gonna Give Up On You
Rage Against The Machine - Renegades Of Funk
Led Zeppelin - Communication Breakdown
ACDC - If You Want Blood, You’ve Got It
Yeah, I know, my music selection is pretty broad. But remember, I’m writing from male and female perspectives, so I gotta roll with it.
Last thing - if you liked THE HARD WAY, give me a review on Amazon or post that you liked it on Facebook or something. I’m only one guy, so any way you can help get the word out is appreciated. That’s all for now. I hope to see you again soon.
Later -
TJ Vargo
http://www.tjvargo.com/
Table of Contents
PART ONE
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
PART TWO
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter Forty-Six
Chapter Forty-Seven
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