Overkill

by Dylan Rust

  This was her husband.

  This was who she’d married while Jack was in prison.

  He shook his head. Things were worse than he’d imagined.

  He punched the wall. His fist went right through. A puff of dust, debris, and insulation fell onto the ground.

  The man on the ground moaned again.

  It was time to clean this place up.

  He had time. He figured he had at least an hour before her husband woke up. He wanted to talk to him, find out what where Elaine was.

  Jack scoured the house for every drug he could find. He found the basics; ibuprofen, aspirin, and naproxen. He also found bags of heroin, coke, and countless opioids; oxycodone, morphine, and fentanyl. He threw them all into a plastic bag. He’d dispose of them later.

  When he was done, he sat on the leather couch and waited for her sister’s husband to regain consciousness.

  It took two hours.

  The man’s eyes flickered open and he yawned.

  “Rise and shine,” Jack said.

  His sister’s husband stirred, kicked his feet. He opened his eyes.

  “What the hell?” he said. “Who are you?”

  “Where’s Elaine?”

  “Who the fuck are you?”

  “Where’s Elaine?”

  “Fuck you.”

  Jack got up and walked to his sister’s husband. He picked him up.

  “Where is my sister?”

  “Sis… sist… sister?”

  Jack lifted the man off the ground, his hand around the man’s throat.

  “Where is she?”

  “I can… I can’t… I can’t breathe.”

  Jack let him go. He fell on to the ground.

  “Nice to meet you,” the man said. He gathered his breath. “The name is Rodney.”

  “If you don’t tell me where she is, you’ll regret it.”

  “Fuck you,” Rodney said. He grabbed a cigarrete from the coffee table and sat on the couch.

  Jack grabbed the cigarrete from Rodney’s mouth before he could light it. He picked the drug addicted loser up by the collar of his shirt.

  “Where is she?”

  Rodney panicked. His feet had left the ground. He didn’t want to be choked again. “She’s at work, I think.”

  “Where does she work?”

  “She works at a bar close by. It’s called Jimmy’s.”

  Jack let him go. Rodney tumbled onto the couch. Jack wiped his hands on his jeans. The guy smelled like vomit.

  “She doesn’t want to see you,” Rodney said. “That’s all she talks about. She hates your fucking guts. She blames you for everything.”

  Jack made his way to the front door.

  “I know,” he said.

  He slammed the door shut and jumped back into his car.

  He was going to Jimmy’s.

  Rodney was on his couch trying to catch his breath. He reached for his leather satchel and the drugs inside but they were gone.

  8

  There was a certain calmness to New York streets before sun set. Jack first felt it when he was an NYPD cop. His captain referred to it as the calm before the storm. It was an unnerving feeling. You could feel the eyes of the rats, standing in the shadows, watching, waiting for the last sliver of light to disappear. It didn’t take long for the city to be flooded with their rot, their disease, their terror.

  Jack drove down the narrow, decrepit streets of Newark toward Jimmy’s. The sun had set. It was dark.

  The rats were out.

  Hookers called out to him at each traffic stop, lifting up their skirts, revealing their infections. Pimps in large hats stood behind them, twirling the canes they’d use on their girls if they got out of line, if they didn’t hand over their cut. The rest of the streets were lined with boarded up store fronts, broken windows and the homeless huddled around burning trashcans.

  Jimmy’s neon sign buzzed and flickered and lit the street up red.

  Jack parked his car and walked to the bar.

  Outside the front entrance, two women and a man were huddled around each other, laughing like maniacs. They noticed Jack and stopped him before he could go inside.

  “Well, looky here. Fresh meat,” said one of the woman.

  Her fishnet stockings and mini skirt revealed her sagging ass cheeks. Her makeup was smeared on her face and the wig she had on had black bits of crust in it.

  “Wanna take a ride with me tonight, big boy.”

  “No thanks,” Jack said.

  He tried to open the door to the bar, but the man stopped him.

  “Hey, buddy,” he said. “This lady is fresh. Clean. Y’know what I’m talking about?” He winked at Jack. “Fifteen will cost you twenty. What do you want? You can take ‘em both for twenty-five.”

  Jack ignored him and pushed open the door to the bar.

  The man from the street followed him inside.

  “Hey, buddy,” the man said. “Don’t walk away from me when I’m talking to you. I don’t like to be disrespected. You won’t find a better deal than that in the city. Don’t you want to have your dick sucked?”

  Jack turned toward the man and stared at him.

  The man’s eyes darted back and forth. He wouldn’t look Jack directly in the eye. Jack noticed the man’s hand was inside his jacket pocket. There was an unusual bulge. He was holding a gun.

  “Put your weapon down,” Jack said. “I’m just here for a drink. That’s it.”

  “How’s about we take a walk,” the man said. “My girls want to get to know you. The price is going up by the minute.”

  “Put your weapon down. I’m not going to repeat myself.”

  “Or what? Who the fuck do you think you are?”

  They were just inside the front entrance. The bar was busy. Jack didn’t want to make a scene. He would have to do it quickly, quietly. He smiled at the man. “Okay,” he said. “Let’s go for a walk.”

  “That’s more like it,” the man said.

  Before the man could react, Jack kneed him in the groin, causing the pimp to cower forward. Jack then slammed his fist into the man’s nose and grabbed the man by the neck and put him in a choker hold.

  He counted to three.

  The man went limp. No one but the bartender noticed.

  “Too much to drink,” Jack said, loud enough so the bartender would hear. “Just going to take him outside for some air.”

  The bartender shrugged. He didn’t give a rats ass. Shit like that happened all the time.

  Jack took the pimp outside and dropped him in front of the girls. He rummaged through the man’s pockets. He took out the man’s 9mm and the roll of hundreds he had. He dislodged the clip and emptied the bullets onto the ground. He gave the money and gun to the women.

  “You tell him I robbed him,” Jack said. “Keep the money for yourself. Get rid of the gun.”

  “Who the fuck are you?” one of the girls said.

  “I’m no one,” Jack said. “Just take him home. He’ll be up in thirty minutes.”

  The women were scared. They bent down and picked up their unconscious John.

  Jack walked back into the bar. He sat down and called the bartender over.

  “Your friend okay?” the bartender said.

  “No,” Jack said. “Too much to drink.”

  “You’re lying.”

  “Do you care?”

  “No,” the bartender said. “The name is Nathan.”

  “Nathan? Why’s this place called Jimmy’s?”

  “Don’t know,” Nathan said. “Just seemed right. Cool, y’know? Like Jimmy Dean or something. Anyways, thanks for taking the trash out. That fucker is always outside causing trouble. You’d think the cops would do something about him.”

  “You get a lot of trash in here?”

  “This is Newark, pal. This whole city is trash.”

  “Is Elaine in?”

  “She’s on break,”Nathan said. “She’s out back. Smoking.”

  “Mind if I go talk t
o her,” Jack said.

  “You know her?”

  “I’m her brother.”

  Nathan looked Jack up and down. He didn’t seem like one of them. He also didn’t seem like a junkie. Elaine liked her junkies. Maybe she was finding a new group of friends? “Sure,” he said.

  He opened up the bar and let Jack walk through the kitchen. The back door to the bar was open. Elaine was sitting on its edge.

  She turned around and saw him. Her face went white.

  Jack couldn’t believe how much she’d changed. Her finger nails were crusted. Her skin was yellow and wrinkly and her hair thin. She looked sick.

  “What the hell?” she said.

  Her voice had changed, too. She sounded like a withered old lady now. The softness was gone.

  “You called,” Jack said.

  Elaine stood up, threw her cigarette on the ground.

  “You shouldn’t have come by here,” she said.

  “You sounded worried,” Jack said. “That’s not like you.”

  “When I saw the feds… I…”

  “You and I were visited by the feds a lot growing up. Why was this different?”

  “I…” she looked around the kitchen. “Get away from me.” She pushed Jack aside and walked back to the bar.

  Jack followed.

  “What the fuck happened to you,” he said.

  “Just stay away from me!”

  “You called me,” he said. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.”

  The siblings walked back into the bar. Nathan was serving a new group of men who’d just walked in. Four shots of vodka each. They were big, but one was bigger. He looked like a bodybuilder.

  Jack grabbed Elaine’s arm. She tried to yank it free. He didn’t let go.

  Nathan noticed.

  “Hey,” he said. “You need help, Elaine?”

  Elaine’s heart pounded. She’d dreamed of this moment for a while. All the things she’d wanted to say to him. She wanted to punch him. But she couldn’t do anything. She just stared into his intense eyes. He hadn’t change one bit. Time hadn’t fucked him up. Dead little girls only affect mothers it seemed. His skin was still warm and smooth. His eyes were still aware and watching.

  Jack released his grip.

  Elaine turned to Nathan and shook her head. “I’m alright,” she said. She turned to Jack. “I’m scared,” she whispered. “Everything is wrong.”

  “You’re right,” Jack said. “Everything is wrong. You’re a junkie now. I met your husband. I cleaned up your house. How long have you been using? Am I supposed to feel sorry for you? Did you call me out of some sort of desperate cry for help.”

  “No,” she said “I don’t want pity.”

  “You’re not getting any. You did this.”

  “You did this,” Elaine said.

  “Sure, keep shifting the blame. I should take you down to the station right now and turn you in.”

  He stared into his sister’s eyes. He wanted to get her cleaned up the hard way, but he couldn’t. Who she had become was not just her fault. What she had become was the result of a system that’d been corrupted, hijacked by bad actors. She was the result of corrupt cops turning a blind eye and taking bribes countless times. She was the result of politicians making promises they knew they couldn’t keep. She was the result of an entire system rotting away while the vultures on Wallstreet picked away at its bones.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I should have called you sooner. I should have…”

  Elaine interrupted. “You should have. You’re right.”

  “I can’t change the past,” he said. “I admit my wrongs. You know I do. If I could go back and stop him…” Jack closed his eyes and took a breath. “If I could have stopped him, I would have. You know that.”

  “I have to get to work,” she said.

  She walked behind the bar. Jack sat down on a stool.

  “Why did you call me?” Jack said. “What has you so spooked?”

  Elaine looked at the men at the bar and then at Jack. She leaned into her brother and whispered, “You mind shutting the fuck up. I’m not spooked. Just get the fuck out of here.”

  Jack looked at the men. Their leather jackets were big, wide. They were all wearing bluetooth earpieces.

  “Who are they?” Jack whispered to Elaine.

  “They’re nobody. Just leave. Please.”

  One of the men looked at Jack. Jack turned away. Elaine noticed that the men were looking at her brother. He’d gotten their attention. She knew that would happen. Jack was like a bull in a china shop. She handed a patron a beer and walked back toward her brother.

  “You need to leave,” she said. “I can’t lose this job.”

  “Then tell me why you called.”

  “Fucking hell,” she said. “You just don’t know when to stop do you?”

  “I’ll be out of your hair if you tell me what’s going on.”

  “Okay,” she said.

  She poured a rum and coke for a patron. She handed the man his drink and then turned her attention back to Jack.

  “I thought the feds showed up because they wanted to know about a girl I work with,” she said. “She’s gone missing. Her name is Mary Sokolov. But they didn’t give a shit about her. The fed just blew me off, said it was the NYPD’s problem, not theirs. All they cared about was you. They wanted dirt. They were telling me that you were suspected of acting as some sort of vigilante. When they said your name, I wanted to scream. It’s always YOU!”

  She served another customer. She looked nervous, scared. Her hands were shaking as she handed the drink to them. She came back to Jack.

  “Now leave,” she said. “Those guys over there aren’t to be messed with.”

  “What did you tell the feds?”

  “Nothing,” she said. “I don’t know anything about you anymore.”

  “The girl,” Jack said. “You said you work with her.”

  “Yes,” she said. “But I don’t have time for this, Jack. Please leave.”

  “When did she go missing?”

  “A week ago. Please, Jack. No more questions. You’re not a cop anymore.”

  The four men drinking vodka got up in unison. They approached Jack. Jack didn’t look at them. He just looked at his sister.

  “Jack,” she said.

  He said nothing.

  The four men surrounded him.

  “We got a call about one of our men,” the largest man said, the one who looked like a bodybuilder. “The girls outside said a tall man in a leather jacket knocked him out.”

  Elaine heard everything they said. She looked at her brother with a dumbfounded expression.

  “I just wanted a drink,” Jack said. “He threatened me.”

  “You’re coming with us.”

  “Am I?”

  “Get up.”

  “Not here,” Nathan said, interrupting the tension. “If you have any business, take it outside. That’s what your boss told me. He said you’d keep it all outside.”

  One of the men pulled out a gun. It was a Makarov pistol. Jack knew the gun well. He’d had a few run ins with Russian gangsters when he was a detective. They all used the same gun. The chrome-lined, four-grooved, 9.27mm barrel was unique. It didn’t look like an American gun. It was Russian, through and through.

  “We don’t need to fight,” Jack said. “I was just about to leave.” He stood up from his stool and turned around, facing the men. “Put the gun down.”

  The man holding the gun aimed it at Jack.

  Jack couldn’t have that.

  In one swoop, he grabbed a glass from the bar and threw it at the man holding the gun’s face. It shattered. The man’s nose and forehead gushed with blood. Jack grabbed the gun from the man’s hand.

  It all happened within a second.

  The bodybuilder swung his massive fists at Jack. Jack ducked under the man’s lumbering arms. And faced the two smaller men.

  He kicked one of them in the balls and
punched the other in the face. He then took the butt of the Makarov and slammed it against the forehead of the man whose face was bleeding, knocking him out cold.

  The bodybuilder managed to get his arms around Jack. Jack tried to wiggle free, but he couldn’t. The guy was strong. The big man squeezed.

  Jack elbowed him in the gut three times. The third one worked. The big man howled in pain. Jack broke free from the hug and kicked the man into a table. The big guy landed on the table and broke it in half. Drinks, cutlery and dishes flew into the air.

  Nathan watched it play out as if it were some kind of bloody ballet. Jack’s moves were swift, precise and delicate. Each punch hit its intended target, each motion blended into the next. It was if he was playing chess. He seemed one move ahead of everyone else. Nathan shook his head. He couldn’t have this happen in his bar. Not to those men. The repercussions would destroy him. He picked up his phone and dialed the police. That was what he’d been told to do.

  “Jack!” Elaine said. “Get the hell out of my life!”

  The big guy pulled out his Makarov and stood up. He fired three shots. Bits and pieces from the ceiling fell onto the ground.

  Three of the men were knocked out. Only the big guy remained.

  The big guy aimed his gun at Jack.

  “You make a move. I’ll kill you,” he said.

  Jack remained still.

  The big man smiled. He pulled the trigger.

  Jack jumped behind the bar pulled out his GLOCK 17. Elaine screamed.

  He peaked over the edge of the bar. The big man fired again.

  Slivers of wood and broken glass shot up.

  Elaine ran.

  “Elaine!” Jack yelled. “Stop.”

  She didn’t listen. She kept running. She just wanted to get away. She wanted away from it all.

  Jack peeked over the edge of what was left of the bar.

  Elaine was in the big man’s arms. His gun was aimed at her head. He was smiling.

  Jack cursed, stood up and aimed his gun at the gangster.

  “Put her down,” Jack said.

  “Or what? You shoot me, I shoot her. Is that what you want?”

  The gangster walked with Elaine backward toward the kitchen and to the back entrance of the bar.