Read Online THUGLIT Issue Two by Justin Porter, Buster Willoughby, Katherine Tomlinson, Mike MacLean, Patrick J. Lambe, Mark E. Fitch, Nik Korpon, Jen Conley - Free Book Online
Authors: Justin Porter, Buster Willoughby, Katherine Tomlinson, Mike MacLean, Patrick J. Lambe, Mark E. Fitch, Nik Korpon, Jen Conley
Ads: Link
attention to, but I decided Danny was closer and more immediate. He still had that knife in his hand.
“We’re here to end this!” one of the men called from the driveway. “This has gone far enough, you queer! We want the boy first and then we’ll deal with you, Gilbert.”
No one said anything. I watched Gilbert's face tightening in outrage and fear, as if years and years of his life had come to a malingering, oppressive point. He was a monster being hunted.
“You want to make that phone call to the police now, Gilbert?” I said, but he wasn’t paying attention to me, his fury was at the posse.
Gilbert exploded. “You get off my property you sons of bitches!” His heavy voice bellowed in the living room. “He is mine you bigoted fucks! I’ll have you all on a fucking cross!”
The shotgun blast was loud and the glass wall shattered and dropped like a waterfall into the driveway. I seized the moment and grabbed both Danny’s arm and the hand that was clutching the knife.. I threw him toward the gaping window frame and he disappeared, plunging down onto the driveway. I could immediately hear the sounds of boots stomping flesh and bone and the crack of a shotgun stock to the head. Gilbert screamed again and took a step toward me. He was feeble and thin but his voice was almost overpowering. I kicked him in the chest and he fell on his back. I snatched the cane out of his hand, flipped it over so the gold handle was leveled at his chin like a golfer lining up for a drive.
“You know, Gilbert?” I said. He was suddenly silent. “You should have kept your mouth shut.”
I teed off on him. His lower jaw nearly went across the room. He lay there in shock, looking like something out of a horror movie, his tongue wagging in the air. Now at least, he looked like a monster.
Matthew was gone and I heard the posse kicking in the door. I scrambled through the doorway where I had seen the kid. The house was like some gothic maze and there were hallways and doors everywhere. I just knew that I had to get to the rear of the house. There was nothing I could do about Matthew. I had to cut my losses. Maybe he would survive this and tell what happened, maybe he wouldn’t. Either way, I doubted that I would get out of this fire without being burned… third degree.
Another shotgun blast went off inside the house and my ears were ringing. The halls were closing in on me. I passed by a room on my right and saw a ghost-like image in the haunted castle. It was the boy, cowering in the corner, pale and skinny and shaggy, dressed only in a t-shirt and boxer shorts. I figured I could salvage something out of this mess.
I gripped his wrist tight enough to nearly break it and pulled him up from the floor. He just followed; he didn’t require any direction.
We burst out the back door into the pale, stark daylight. I figured at least one of the posse would be circling around back, so we had to move fast. I pulled the boy along into the thick woods and the foliage blotted out the sun. Until I figured it was safe to slow down and walk, we put as much distance between ourselves and the house as possible. I was breathing heavy and my heart was racing with adrenaline. The boy barely seemed winded. There was another shotgun blast in the distance. My guess was that Matthew was on the receiving end.
We walked through the forest together, footsteps falling softly on dead leaves, the light breaking through the canopy of trees at intervals that spotted the ground in an angelic light. I was still holding onto his wrist and he still had not said anything. To anyone else, we would have looked like lovers.
“Are you hurt?” I asked, but he said nothing and just kept his eyes on the ground.
“You can’t go back home, can you?” I said.
“No,” he said.
“Was it bad at home?”
“They hate me there. They think there’s something wrong with me.”
I thought for a time. Judging by the posse, I figured the boy would just
“We’re here to end this!” one of the men called from the driveway. “This has gone far enough, you queer! We want the boy first and then we’ll deal with you, Gilbert.”
No one said anything. I watched Gilbert's face tightening in outrage and fear, as if years and years of his life had come to a malingering, oppressive point. He was a monster being hunted.
“You want to make that phone call to the police now, Gilbert?” I said, but he wasn’t paying attention to me, his fury was at the posse.
Gilbert exploded. “You get off my property you sons of bitches!” His heavy voice bellowed in the living room. “He is mine you bigoted fucks! I’ll have you all on a fucking cross!”
The shotgun blast was loud and the glass wall shattered and dropped like a waterfall into the driveway. I seized the moment and grabbed both Danny’s arm and the hand that was clutching the knife.. I threw him toward the gaping window frame and he disappeared, plunging down onto the driveway. I could immediately hear the sounds of boots stomping flesh and bone and the crack of a shotgun stock to the head. Gilbert screamed again and took a step toward me. He was feeble and thin but his voice was almost overpowering. I kicked him in the chest and he fell on his back. I snatched the cane out of his hand, flipped it over so the gold handle was leveled at his chin like a golfer lining up for a drive.
“You know, Gilbert?” I said. He was suddenly silent. “You should have kept your mouth shut.”
I teed off on him. His lower jaw nearly went across the room. He lay there in shock, looking like something out of a horror movie, his tongue wagging in the air. Now at least, he looked like a monster.
Matthew was gone and I heard the posse kicking in the door. I scrambled through the doorway where I had seen the kid. The house was like some gothic maze and there were hallways and doors everywhere. I just knew that I had to get to the rear of the house. There was nothing I could do about Matthew. I had to cut my losses. Maybe he would survive this and tell what happened, maybe he wouldn’t. Either way, I doubted that I would get out of this fire without being burned… third degree.
Another shotgun blast went off inside the house and my ears were ringing. The halls were closing in on me. I passed by a room on my right and saw a ghost-like image in the haunted castle. It was the boy, cowering in the corner, pale and skinny and shaggy, dressed only in a t-shirt and boxer shorts. I figured I could salvage something out of this mess.
I gripped his wrist tight enough to nearly break it and pulled him up from the floor. He just followed; he didn’t require any direction.
We burst out the back door into the pale, stark daylight. I figured at least one of the posse would be circling around back, so we had to move fast. I pulled the boy along into the thick woods and the foliage blotted out the sun. Until I figured it was safe to slow down and walk, we put as much distance between ourselves and the house as possible. I was breathing heavy and my heart was racing with adrenaline. The boy barely seemed winded. There was another shotgun blast in the distance. My guess was that Matthew was on the receiving end.
We walked through the forest together, footsteps falling softly on dead leaves, the light breaking through the canopy of trees at intervals that spotted the ground in an angelic light. I was still holding onto his wrist and he still had not said anything. To anyone else, we would have looked like lovers.
“Are you hurt?” I asked, but he said nothing and just kept his eyes on the ground.
“You can’t go back home, can you?” I said.
“No,” he said.
“Was it bad at home?”
“They hate me there. They think there’s something wrong with me.”
I thought for a time. Judging by the posse, I figured the boy would just
Similar Books
