Chapter-6: Midnight Rum
Oblivious to Luz’s silent presence in the back of the barn, the agitated tavern men focused all their attention on the two unconscious American rebels. The two men lay on the ground, tied up and gagged, and beaten red and white and deep blue.
From behind the unconscious men on the floor, several weak whimpers nudged at Luz’s attention. A tiny trembling pit-bull puppy, three weeks old, licked his dead mother’s paws on the floor. In between his snot nosed licks, the little puppy glared at the arguing men.
“Here, it’s best to kill ‘em here,” said Hickory. “Easier, done and done.” He reached down and picked up the chestnut brown puppy.
“Nah, that’s not enough,” said Thumb. “We need tah show force; send a solid good message to these colon-ish.” He turned to his side and ordered Dickory to sharpen their blades.
“Yeah, of course, of course,” said Dickory. “We got to carve a message and hang-em up outside, sure thing boss. That ‘ill teach ‘em tah respect England.” With a pretentious grin, Dickory pulled three blades from his satchel, and reached for his whetstones.
Caught between Thumb and Dickory, the little puppy urinated on Hickory; and he bit down hard on a fowl smelling greasy ring finger.
“Fuc’in pup, go to hell,” said Hickory. He fast balled the pit-bull puppy toward the barn entrance. The puppy yelped twice as he slammed into the wooden barn doors and crashed hard onto the hay littered floor.
“Stop playing around wit’ that puppy,” said Thumb, “yah, pretty priss’ princess; get to work on butchering these men.” He spat to his left and picked at his teeth with a dirty forefinger.
Luz pursed his lips and looked to his side. The puppy wobbled in place and stared up at him. Fumes of hatred and bloodlust erupted from the pup’s eyes as it trembled its way forward. The pup wormed toward Luz, dragging three broken legs. And, despite two racks of broken ribs, the little one managed to bark softer than a barn mouse. Even so, Luz felt his words and his magnificent desire; and, without much thought, he obliged the pup’s wishes.
“Agreed,” said Luz. He waved his right hand at the barn’s double wide entrance. Chains rattled and wrapped around the iron grips of the red ochre doors. Several sparks chipped into the air as chains pulled and grinded together tight, holding the double entrance shut.
The three men yanked their heads west at the chain rattle; instinctively they bent down and reached for their weapons, gripping tight onto their butcher blades.
“What in whore’s titties was that?” called out Hickory.
“It’s that prissy Mess-can-oh from the Blue Bonnet,” said Dickory. He grimaced and scratched his ass.
“Donkey balls in hell’s pie,” said Thumb. He sighed with a dejected huff, “can’t never get a clean break. Always, always, gots to work overtime and clean up a god damn extra mess. Boys, rip this Messy-can-oh shit another windpipe. Guess we’ll have a message of three, stead of two.”
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