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but when his eyes cleared he realised the emaciated figure of Tyrone keeping a watch over him, a pistol in his hands, pointed unwaveringly his way.
Daniel looked at the other two who were busy packing out the bags of cocaine
“So Tyrone have these two told where they are gonna bury your body yet?” Daniel croaked, his voice piercing through the night air.
“Shut up!” Tyrone hissed. The gun pointed a lot straighter after that.
A few minutes later, Daniel broke the silence again, “My guess is in there; under the boards with the rest of the coke they can’t stuff conveniently into their pockets. After all this is your mess, and they know it.”
“Keep that pie hole shut, Tyrone! Can’t you do anything right?” McGrady hissed.
“Oh he can, he got you guys here didn’t he? Fell for the trap like a racoon.”
Tyrone kicked him across the ankles, “Shut up!”
“No I won’t shut up you Moron! They are going to kill you! And after that they are going to blame it on me again like they did the sheriff; you were there that day-you know what happened!”
“That ain’t gonna happen! I mean we pals; we always been!” Tyrone piped in the night.
“And if I don’t come back home, you think your sister who has put up with your bull shit her whole life would want to see your stoned head again? A crack head with his nose in his own supply? Who’s gonna take you in? Them? Like I said, they want you dead; you’re a liability-you know too much.”
“For goodness sakes Ty put him to sleep!” Tyler hissed from the background, “ I swear I still can’t figure out why you don’t move backwards instead of forward, you dumb as hell!”
“Hey don’t talk to me like that! We all partners here!” Tyrone lost his temper, screaming now, he turned to face the others and Daniel seized his chance. He bounded off the floor, took a step and dived as far as he could towards the wall to the right. He crashed into it, and a second later, the lights in the barn came on, blinding all four of them located below.
“Alright hold it, and put your hands where I can see’em!” Stanley bellowed from the top of the balcony from which he had previously hurled the bait for the present debacle.
McGrady’s service pistol was out faster than Tyley’s colt. Pretty soon McGrady was pointing at Stanley while Tyler’s aim was straight at Daniel’s chest.
“What’s the matter Tyrone? You don’t have no weapon? Thought this was gonna be a regular pick n’ shift? I told you they was gonna kill you.” Daniel teased a bewildered Tyrone who was still trying to get adapted to the light.
“Alright this is not a Mexican standoff; drop your weapon Stan, and come over peaceably.” Tyler commanded, the sophisticated charm back on like the electricity.
“What makes you think you got the advantage? Pa!”
On cue a shot went off just beside McGrady’s foot, the bullet lodging itself in the wood. Daniel turned to look up at the balcony opposite Stanley’s to see Old man Yalow nod in recognition, but keeping his eye steady through his rifle.
They had been there the whole time, angels hidden by the night, waiting for the lights to shine.
McGrady gently lowered his gun, giving a blizzard stare at the rifle pointed at him. Tyler Shot him in the back, and shot at Tyrone’s head before dashing out into the night. Nobody could react in the split second that it all occurred.
He did not go far however; he was soon backing back into the barn, a shotgun pointed at his nose, and Julianne unflinching in her full intent to use it if need be. Tyler gulped, his hands in the air about his head in surrender, “You wouldn’t dare,” he stammered, “You wouldn’t dare! Your no killer; your husb-“
The shotgun continued pointing at him as he cringed in pain, and fell to the floor. She had rammed her cowboy boots square on his crutch, “You shot at my brother, so don’t be so sure, and never insult my husband again.”
Epilogue
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