Action: Pulse Pounding Tales Volume 2

UNINVITED GUESTS By Rod Glenn

“I’ll tell you what he’s gonna do, Tommy. He’s gonna shit his fucking pants.”

The younger man tapped his foot and bit his bottom lip. “Are you sure, boss?”

“Course I’m fucking sure, you little prick,” the big man snapped. “He’s just some fucking shop owner, for fuck’s sake, G-G-G-Granville.” He laughed and clapped the young man on the back. “When we cap that meddling slag of his he’ll shit it and then I’ll cap him too. Piece of piss. End of.”

The van turned a tight corner, catching Tommy off guard. He fell into the lap of the giant black man sitting opposite him.

“Get off, you little bender,” Leonard said, shoving him back into his seat. “You ain’t my type, boy.”

The athletic woman sat next to him chuckled. Wiping a strand of raven hair out of her face, she said, “Why the fuck we babysitting this puke anyway, Ronnie?”

“He’s gotta bust his cherry sometime, Lexi,” Ronnie said. “And don’t fucking question me again, alright?”

Lexi wrinkled her nose and switched her attention to her submachine gun.

“We’re here,” the driver called out as the van slowed to a halt.

“Get your game faces on,” Ronnie said as he drew a pistol from inside his leather jacket.

They jumped out of the back of the van and followed Ronnie to a terraced house. The street was dark and deserted, long past the witching hour.

Lexi disappeared briefly while the others congregated at the front door. She returned quickly and gave a curt nod to Ronnie.

Whispering, Ronnie said, “Right, Tommy, you stay just inside the front door and keep tabs on the street. You two, with me.”

Tommy opened his mouth to protest, but Ronnie cut him off with a clip around the head.

Lexi worked on the lock while Leonard set his shotgun aside and pulled out a pair of bolt cutters. As she opened the door, Leonard snipped the door chain and Ronnie rushed inside. Lexi and Leonard followed as Tommy pulled the door to behind them.

The house was in darkness. Ronnie wasted no time; he rushed up the stairs and kicked open the door to what he already knew was the master bedroom.

The man and woman were already awake, the man, naked and stepping out of the bed.

“What the…” the woman was saying, confused.

Ronnie switched the light on and aimed his pistol at them. “Shut the fuck up and listen.”

Seeing the pistol, she closed her mouth. The man stood and folded his arms across his chest.

“Nice one,” Ronnie said, alternating his aim between the two. “Mr Francis sent us to make sure you don’t testify next week in the unfortunate situation he currently finds himself in.”

The man turned to the woman and said, “Have you not been playing nice with the other kids, Cara?”

She flashed him an angry glance. “This is no time for your jokes, darling.”

“I’d listen to your slag girlfriend there, mate,” Ronnie sneered. Without taking his eyes off them, he said, “You two know what to do. Get to work.”

Leonard and Lexi nodded and left the room.

“I’m sorry to say that you two are going to have a little accident,” Ronnie said. “You really shouldn’t cook late at night after a few bevies.”

The man smiled. “Ah yes,” he said. “That is very silly of us.”

“This is serious,” Cara snapped at him. Turning to Ronnie, she said, “You can try to mock this up like an accident all you like, but forensics will easily establish foul play and guess who will be the prime suspect?”

“Don’t you worry your pretty blonde head about it, love. We’ve got it all covered.”

The man took a step forward. “So… if you need this to look like an accident, you’re not going to be shooting anyone, are you?”

Ronnie trained the pistol on him. The man was clearly fit and muscular, but he was also bollock naked and unarmed. “Fucking try it, mate. Mr Francis wanted an accident, but if you fuck with me I’ll put a fucking bullet right through your dick. And then while you bleed to death I’ll rape your girlfriend here before I slit her throat.”

The man took another step forward, ignoring a hissed warning from Cara. “You’d have to be a crack shot with that Glock to put one through my tiny cock.”

Ronnie frowned and managed a half laugh. “You’d be surprised how good a shot I am with this Glock. You take one more step and you’ll find out, mate.”

The man held up his hands in a mock apology.

“Put some clothes on,” Cara said.

“I’m not bothered that this gay goon is eying my cock,” The man said and offered a cheeky smile to Ronnie.

“You’re a piece of work, son. I was told you were just some pussy video shop owner.” With a snort, Ronnie added, “Nobody owns videos anymore, you wanker.”

The man feigned surprise and stepped closer at the same time. “You don’t say! Whatever will I do?”

“Stop it,” Cara implored him.

“I’ve had enough of you,” Ronnie said.

In a blur of motion, the man dropped to the carpet and rolled forward. He emerged out of the roll as Ronnie was adjusting his aim. He jabbed him in the groin and then sprung to his feet, catching Ronnie’s jaw with the top of his head.

As Ronnie staggered backwards, blood spraying from his mouth, the man moved in again. With a quick twist, he snapped his wrist, took the pistol and fired it into Ronnie’s temple. The opposite side of his head exploded and blood and brains splattered across the wall.

As shouts from downstairs erupted, Cara jumped out of the bed, gawping at her naked boyfriend. “Jesus Christ! What the hell was that?”

“Let’s maybe chat about this later, okay, honey?” He stepped out of the room as the big black guy bounded up the stairs, shotgun in hand.

The man opened fire. Leonard’s head snapped back with the impact of the first round. Two more rounds struck his chest. He toppled backwards and hit the stairs like a felled redwood.

Lexi shrieked from downstairs and a spray of gunfire peppered the wall and ceiling at the top of the stairs.

“You motherfucker!” she screamed as she slapped home a fresh magazine.

The man lingered just out of sight, mulling over his options. Cara stepped over Ronnie’s body and appeared in the doorway. “Landline’s dead,” she whispered. She held up her mobile and started to punch in 999.

The man clicked his tongue as he admired her naked form. “As much as I love seeing you naked, darling, I think you should put some clothes on.”

“Pot calling the kettle, darling!”

He shrugged. “Touché.” He then stepped over to the top of the stairs and waved. Gunfire was the immediate response.

He tucked his hand back and then stepped out. Lexi was reloading as he fired. She lunged for cover, but his first round clipped her thigh. She screamed and fell sprawling out of view.

“Stop!” Cara was shouting. “Just wait for the police, for God’s sake!”

“Nah!” The man yelled back. “I’m having too much fun!”

Lexi crawled over to the front door, where Tommy was standing. He was pressed against it, trembling and mouth wide open in a silent scream.

Lexi had dropped the loaded magazine in the exchange and was frantically searching her pockets for her last one. Glancing up at Tommy, she spat, “Don’t just fucking stand there! Shoot the cunt!”

Han reached the bottom of the stairs as Tommy fumbled for his revolver. His hand was shaking so violently he dropped it. He stared at it and then at the naked man as he advanced towards them. “Please…”

“Spare me, kid,” the man said and shot Lexi in the face. Her head smacked against the laminate floor with a wet thud.

“Oh, God… oh, God…”

The man shook his head slowly. “He’s not going to save you. You arseholes catastrophically misjudged your opponent here, I’m afraid.”

His voice a near shriek, Tommy uttered, “Who the fuck are you?”

Han glanced over his shoulder, checking that Cara was out of earshot. She was talking frantically on her mobile.

Leaning in closer, he whispered, “I’m Han Whitman.”

The last remaining colour drained from Tommy’s cheeks. As warm piss jetted down his trouser leg, he muttered, “Oh, God no…”

BIO:

Rod Glenn was brought up in the north east of England and lives in Newcastle upon Tyne with wife, Vanessa. His writing is of a dark nature with darkly humorous undertones. He also dabbles in a little acting; some roles include World War Z, Broken England, The Bad Samaritan Must Die, Run, Vera, Inspector George Gently and 6 Feet Under.

Novels:
The King of America

Sinema: The Northumberland Massacre

The King of America: Epic Edition

The Killing Moon

Sinema 2: Sympathy for the Devil

Holiday of the Dead (contributor)

Radgepacket Vol. 1 (contributor)

P.O.W. Wartime Log of F/Sgt T D Glenn (contributor)

Sinema 3: The Troy Consortium

Wild Wolf's Twisted Tails (contributor)

The character “Han Whitman” featured in this short story is the infamous mass-murdering serial killer from Glenn’s Sinema series of books.