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taken it out in the desert to see if we could shoot it our first season with the Americana so we knew how to use that Tommy. It used .45 slugs so we had no problem keeping the round drum full of ammo. Zelda was pretty good at hitting things with it. But she couldn’t beat me. I was a natural Tommy gun gangster with that baby. I could’ve given Machine Gun Kelly a run for his money, except that he was already doing time in Alcatraz for kidnapping some rich oil man.
Zelda drove like a maniac and caught up with them on a back-country road. She had the headlights off so they wouldn’t know we were on their tail. We knew no one else from the carnival would be coming because they wouldn’t know where we were, so it was up to us to rescue Yaakov Munk.
It was a clear night and the moon was fattening up to full like a big yellow tick feasting on rich blood. Zelda didn’t have much trouble keeping the car between the ditches. She had to slow down some when the Nazis turned off onto a dirt road that snaked through wooded landscape but she was able to hang far enough back to keep from being seen in their rearview mirror. We could see their taillights but they couldn’t see us. Unless the goons were leading us into a trap.
I had a pretty good idea how evil Nazis were on account of the tales Yaakov and Moses had told me. I didn’t think American brown shirts would be much different from their German brothers when it came to Jew-hating cruelty. I was not going to let these assholes hurt the man I loved. I was prepared to use the Tommy gun without hesitation. Somewhere in my head old Squid Face’s ghost was egging me on to do murder. Not that I needed any egging.
We followed them to a little hilltop where they popped out of their auto like the brown shirt clowns they were. All six of them and my beloved Yaakov in chains. There was a single tree on that hill and I saw right away it was a hanging tree.
Zelda had cut off our motor when they first stopped so they couldn’t hear us.
Two of the men had flashlights. One of them lit up a torch. Only thing missing was a pitchfork to make it like one of those monster movies Zelda for some reason loved.
When one of them threw the hangman’s noose over a low-hanging limb, Zelda said, “My God, they’re really gonna kill him. You ready to jack these goons up?”
I nodded and patted the Tommy.
“Let’s go then,” she said. “Kill ’em if you have to. Any one or all.”
We were at the bottom of the little hill, about forty paces away from the hanging tree. I glided up the grassy slope, moving fast and as silent as a gentle breeze. Zelda lagged behind, being plumper. Her ass was great for shimmy-shaking the cooch but it made her bottom-heavy and slow for uphill work. Didn’t matter because I had the machine gun and murder in my black heart.
Yaakov started talking in German. It sounded like he was cussing them but then the German tongue often sounded that way to me, harsh and pissed-off. That was when I saw the rifle. One of the Nazis shouted something in Yaakov’s face and then butt-stroked him under the chin with the rifle. Yaakov went to his knees and never said another word.
They put the noose around his neck then. And one of them came out with a gas can and started pouring gasoline over Yaakov’s head and shoulders, drenching him. They aimed to hoist him up and set him to burn.
By this time I was nearly to the top of the hill but they hadn’t seen me because I was outside the glow of their torchlight. I wanted to yell at them to stop, something like Stop or I’ll shoot but I didn’t trust my mouth to remember how to say words.
So I let loose with a Wolf Girl howl as I leveled the Tommy gun at the man with the torch.
Behind me, Zelda came through like a champ and yelled: “Stop! Right now! Or we’ll shoot you!”
Startled, the Bund boys all froze and then turned toward us, peered through the gloom to see who’d dared to call them out. Flashlight beams found us and
Zelda drove like a maniac and caught up with them on a back-country road. She had the headlights off so they wouldn’t know we were on their tail. We knew no one else from the carnival would be coming because they wouldn’t know where we were, so it was up to us to rescue Yaakov Munk.
It was a clear night and the moon was fattening up to full like a big yellow tick feasting on rich blood. Zelda didn’t have much trouble keeping the car between the ditches. She had to slow down some when the Nazis turned off onto a dirt road that snaked through wooded landscape but she was able to hang far enough back to keep from being seen in their rearview mirror. We could see their taillights but they couldn’t see us. Unless the goons were leading us into a trap.
I had a pretty good idea how evil Nazis were on account of the tales Yaakov and Moses had told me. I didn’t think American brown shirts would be much different from their German brothers when it came to Jew-hating cruelty. I was not going to let these assholes hurt the man I loved. I was prepared to use the Tommy gun without hesitation. Somewhere in my head old Squid Face’s ghost was egging me on to do murder. Not that I needed any egging.
We followed them to a little hilltop where they popped out of their auto like the brown shirt clowns they were. All six of them and my beloved Yaakov in chains. There was a single tree on that hill and I saw right away it was a hanging tree.
Zelda had cut off our motor when they first stopped so they couldn’t hear us.
Two of the men had flashlights. One of them lit up a torch. Only thing missing was a pitchfork to make it like one of those monster movies Zelda for some reason loved.
When one of them threw the hangman’s noose over a low-hanging limb, Zelda said, “My God, they’re really gonna kill him. You ready to jack these goons up?”
I nodded and patted the Tommy.
“Let’s go then,” she said. “Kill ’em if you have to. Any one or all.”
We were at the bottom of the little hill, about forty paces away from the hanging tree. I glided up the grassy slope, moving fast and as silent as a gentle breeze. Zelda lagged behind, being plumper. Her ass was great for shimmy-shaking the cooch but it made her bottom-heavy and slow for uphill work. Didn’t matter because I had the machine gun and murder in my black heart.
Yaakov started talking in German. It sounded like he was cussing them but then the German tongue often sounded that way to me, harsh and pissed-off. That was when I saw the rifle. One of the Nazis shouted something in Yaakov’s face and then butt-stroked him under the chin with the rifle. Yaakov went to his knees and never said another word.
They put the noose around his neck then. And one of them came out with a gas can and started pouring gasoline over Yaakov’s head and shoulders, drenching him. They aimed to hoist him up and set him to burn.
By this time I was nearly to the top of the hill but they hadn’t seen me because I was outside the glow of their torchlight. I wanted to yell at them to stop, something like Stop or I’ll shoot but I didn’t trust my mouth to remember how to say words.
So I let loose with a Wolf Girl howl as I leveled the Tommy gun at the man with the torch.
Behind me, Zelda came through like a champ and yelled: “Stop! Right now! Or we’ll shoot you!”
Startled, the Bund boys all froze and then turned toward us, peered through the gloom to see who’d dared to call them out. Flashlight beams found us and
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