When they smashed in the door Tamblyn and Russell didn't know what they were going to get. Turned out what they got was a fat kid with an enormous head in a grease stained Metal Mulisha tee shirt.
“On the floor, asshole!”
Russell swept the kid's feet out from under him. Tamblyn snapped the cuffs tight. Jerked the kid to his feet by his cuffed wrists. He knew it hurt like hell. That's the way they wanted it. The way it needed to be. Pit bull dominance right off the bat.
“Move it you fat fuck.”
Russell fast walked the kid out the door, down the stairs and tossed him into the backseat of the cruiser. Tamblyn hit the gas as soon as Russell's door slammed. The kid lurched back against the seat then went face first into the steel screen when Tamblyn locked the brakes up. The metal mesh cut the kids cheekbones and the bridge of his nose wide open and a few teeth went flying. Russell half-turned in his seat.
“How'd ya like that, ass face? Want some more?”
“No, please no more.” The kid's voice came out mushy and wet.
Tamblyn gunned the motor. Looked at Russell.
“Think he's ready?”
“Nah,” Russell said. “Not yet.”
The big v-eight barked loud. The rear brakes screeched. The kid hit the screen again. This time he managed to turn his face away so the wire tore his left ear loose. Left it hanging by the lobe. This time the kid stayed forward his face pressed against the metal. He blinked some of the blood away from his eyes. They were going-going-gone but he pulled a little focus on Russell's face.
“Please . . .” was all he managed to pant out.
“Please.” Tamblyn snickered. “Fuck your please, Bertino. Fuck it in the ass. Just tell us where Callaway is.”
“Yeah, Bertino. Just tell us where Jimmy is and all the pain will stop,” Russell said.
The kid's voice was weak. Sounded like it was coming from somewhere far, far away. Fading fast.
“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah . . . Jimmy said . . . Jimmy said—" he pressed his face into the screen hard. His voice faded to almost inaudible.
Both cops leaned right up to him. Listening hard through the solid steel mesh.
“Jimmy said . . . to tell you. He'd see you both . . . In hell.”
Bertino's fingers found the red button of the remote and pressed it home. The three pounds of C4 wrapped around his neck detonated, blowing the mesh apart, sending a thousand slivers of steel through both men's faces. In the silence following the explosion the three headless bodies in the squad car seemed almost peaceful and the night almost quiet and the moon almost as bright.
© 2011 ~ Author AJ HAYES
another DEBUT ~ AT THE BIJOU
Spectacular NYC photo ala Anthony V Loh
Spectacular NYC photo ala Anthony V Loh
|Genuine Fedora of the genuine AJ HAYES|
AT THE BIJOU AUTHOR PAL TO AUTHOR PAL, with a little help from our Noir Pals ~
|Absolutely*Kate full speeds Noir|
You ready for your closeup,
|Author AJ HAYES, tough, tender|
A*K Tell ya what we're gonna do, oh mighty author pal ~ Since you transcend readers wit' the sneak up subtlety of your explosive wordsmithery magic, I can bring in ringers to transcend movie magic. This interview is AT THE BIJOU, where anything can happen . . . especially when Your guts . . . spiel, eloquent.
AJ I trust ya Kid.
|Bogie & Bacall, street smarts|
Katie, woid on da street is ya done swell so far hosting NOVEMBER goes NOIR ~ AT THE BIJOU. Lotta top notch authors gunning straight. So's me and Baby, we got youse guys script here, we'll cut ya a break, run the interview. Take a load off you two. And Hayes - you're one tough hombre.
A*K Hey ya big Palooka . . . What else you want the fine fancified folks in our swanky theatre to know and guffawy and chew on awhile about youse? When'd you foist pick up a pen or crayola?
AJ Hm. Started scribbling for real about ten, twelve years ago. Before that it was a few poems and a coup'la partial stories on the back of Trix boxes (silly rabbit). Then a guy at B&N put me on to Stephanie Mood's Fiction Writing course at Grossmont College and the rest is written on the post office wall.
|Table talks. Nobody walks.|
Well, that would explain why so many dizzy dames think he's WANTED.
A*K What makes you do that voodoo that you do?
AJ Voodoo? Some folks would say DooDoo. Dunno, one of those always wanted to, finally did tunes I guess. I grew up reading from age four and was fortunate enough to have relatives with bookcases full of the good old stuff. From Ovid (yeah, I didn't get what that cat was talkin' about, but I read him just the same) to The Bobbsey Twins (those were in the library of a pair of maiden aunts) Then I moved to California and discovered the library and that was that. Read every book in the joint.
|Always drive your point home, Baby.|
a good character
is always a good read.
A*K But man oh man, how the heck do you do it as prolificooly as YOU do?
AJ Aw, toots. I just tool the streets, look around Southern California and ideas and people just jump off the street and right into my head. Guy came into a place I worked once wearing a stingray for a hat (No, a real, freshly dead, starting to smell, four-foot wingspan batray). If that doesn't give you a flood of stories . . . well . . .
|Classy is as classy does. It's a tell.|
Kid, this kid's the real deal. Aces in a deck that ain't even stacked yet.
A*K Other links to urge folks thinks?
AJ Wow! So many. A Twist Of Noir, Death by Killing, Shotgun Honey, Flash Jab Fiction, Status Stories, Thrillers Killers 'n Chillers, The Flash Fiction Offensive, All Due Respect, Eaten Alive, Richard Godwin's Chinwag At The Slaughterhouse interview series, Nigel Bird's Sea Minor blog, Chuck Wendig's Terrible Minds, Jimmay Callaway et.al's Criminal Complex . . . and AT THE BIJOU now too. You got a couple days to listen more?
|We got us a captive audience.|
Ammo, Katie, ask him about the ammo. He's that sure of a hot shot, he's gotta know about big guns. Make the big lug squeal, Katie.
A*K Got it Bogie. So, hey Bub, other books to urge their looks?
AJ All of the Brit gritters, Bird, Ayres, Brazil, Bury, Sant, Richard Godwin's Apostle Rising, among a hundred others. Yanks? Doc Smith, Dave White, Josh Freakin' Stallings, William Gibson, Matt Funk, Jimmy Callaway, Chris Rhatigan -- c'mon this is gonna take a week to complete and I'll still be missing a thousand people who MUST be listed. I have to stop now, I'm getting depressed because this subject needs to be a book -- maybe an encyclopedia.
A*K You are waxing eloquent Bucko - Single spot be deservingly yours, darlin. Is it true that you're the pal of every last lingerin' person 'round WebTowne? How the heck does your mind travel so fast to be there, read there, glean there, make the scene there and then leave it all the betterfied place 'cause o'what you have to say there?
AJ There's SO many great writers out there. So many nice folks. A guy owes it to them all to comment on their work or push their book or anything else he can do to give then a hand. Yeah, I run exhausted a lot because I owe them all big time for the learning I get every time I read their stuff and the privilege I feel being able to associate with them.
|Ya know how to cut a rug, Kid.|
Well now we know he's jake, and he knows how to whistle, now make him dance Katie, make him dance ... absolutely.
AJ Simple. I read and read and then read some more. I read 'til my eyes bleed. Everybody I can get my hands on. Genre? What the hell is that? The only genres I demand are Good, Amazing and Well I'll Be A Son Of A Bitch! One thing I've learned is all the arts resonate in your head constantly. When you read a really great story or book, you've already cast the movie, got the theme music playing in your head, the poetry whispering in your ear and had an epiphany or three kicking your butt all to hell and gone.
A*K Oh, I looked up both 'ATTUNE' and 'VIBE' in my Thorndike Barnhart Buster Brown, and found you plastered your big mug smack dab on those pages. I grinned. You're on when you're on. Readers feel that. Now, say you threw a bash where you could extend the ivory pasteboard invite to any Sally and Slim - Who'd ya let in?
AJ Anybody who wanted to get in -- as long as they're old-fashioned, sub-zero, I mean, COOL. You all know who you are. Yeah you do. Will the first team please step forward?
We think this is the beginning
of a long authoring admiration.
Here's lookin' at you kids.
A*K Love ya Clyde. Honoured to do ya proud.
AJ Love ya right back, Awesome Kitty