Read Online Deep Winter by Samuel W. Gailey - Free Book Online Page A

cowering on the floor by himself.
    â€œShit, Mike. That thing’s loaded, man,” Teddie whispered.
    Sokowski still squinted through one eye and kept it focused down on Otis. “Good. Blow the fucker’s brains out.”
    Teddie stepped forward. “Come on, man. Put it down. I don’t need this shit.”
    Sokowski ignored him. His lips pulled away from his teeth and gums and he hissed down at Otis. “Next time I pull the trigger, motherfucker. Got it?”
    Otis’s body jerked and quivered as he managed to nod.
    Sokowski spit a mouthful of blood onto the crown of Otis’s head before finally lowering the rifle. Then he simply handed the gun to Teddie and walked toward the front door. Those in the crowd who were still sticking their heads inside watching the drama backed off and gave him a wide berth.
    Carl quickly jumped to his feet, tripped on the chair, and then rushed to follow Sokowski from the trailer. Out on the porch, Sokowski glared at all the faces staring at him from the front yard. “What are you fucks looking at?”
    Folks slipped deeper into the dark or toward waiting trucks.
    Sokowski reared his leg back, then gave the keg a hard, violent kick.
    â€œFuck this shit.” The keg wobbled off the porch and crashed to the ground with a thud—its tap snapped off and an explosion of beer foam erupted from it as it rolled wildly across the lawn, spraying the group of drunken men and women.
    Sokowski got into his truck and slammed the door hard enough to rattle the window. Carl was only halfway in the cab whenSokowski fired up the Chevy and gunned it across the gravel driveway. Pebbles showered the side of the trailer and forced the crowd to duck for cover. The truck fishtailed violently, but Carl managed to close the door as his body was flung across the front seat.
    The fender clipped the mailbox and sent it flying as the truck hit the street running at forty miles per hour. Carl shot a look over at Sokowski, who clutched the steering wheel with ten white knuckles.
    â€œFuck,” Carl managed.
    Sokowski dug his smokes out of his pocket and popped one in between his lips. He punched the cigarette lighter with his fist and waited impatiently for the coils to heat up.
    Carl grabbed two beer cans that kicked around on the floor of the truck. Cracked them both and handed one to Sokowski.
    â€œThat was some fucked-up shit,” Carl muttered as he swigged his beer.
    â€œI should’ve blown the fucker’s head off. Piece of shit.”
    Carl nodded. “Yeah, well, he ain’t worth it.”
    Sokowski sucked on his beer and pressed his foot harder on the gas pedal.
    â€œYou probably did me a favor, though. I would’ve probably ended up banging that fat bitch and gotten a case of the pecker drips.” Carl forced a weak smile and gulped some more beer.
    Sokowski looked at him and let out a small, dry laugh. “Your old lady would have chopped off your little friend and fed it to you for breakfast.” They both laughed at the thought, which cut the tension a bit.
    â€œThat fucker was scared, wasn’t he?” Sokowski said.
    â€œI think the dumb bastard shit his pants.”
    Sokowski nodded and chuckled at the thought.
    â€œSo we goin’ home?” Carl asked.
    The cigarette lighter popped up, and Sokowski pressed the glowing coils to his cigarette, inhaled, and then blew out a cloud of smoke. He shot Carl a sideways look and smiled a smile that gave Carl a chill.
    â€œHell no. Night’s early.”
    Carl didn’t say nothing. Drank his beer and looked out the windshield as the truck weaved down the country road. Trees swept past in a blur. Blackness all around them. He had a bad feeling about where the night would take them, but he knew better than to say anything.

Danny
    D anny had put another coat of orange on the robin’s breast and now carefully painted tiny white specks on the bird’s wings and head. It was