Headstone City

THIRTY

Death is nothing.”

“It's something,” Dane told him.

“We beat it a long time ago, when we went through the windshield,” Vinny said. “You telling me you didn't know that?”

“No, I don't think I did.”

“Do you now?”

“I'm not sure.”

“You're the pazzo fuck.”

Dane thought that maybe he understood what it had been like for Vinny all along. He felt the draw, the separation of himself heading down toward another life. He stood on one path and looked around, then saw there might be another slightly better chance for happiness if only he made a choice that took him there. There. There.

“Don't do it, Vinny.”

“Look, there's nobody in the middle anymore. Here, watch.”

On the radio, Dad mumbling about the rules of the road, always wearing your seat belt, being courteous to your fellow driver. The girl in the backseat lay down with eleven knife wounds in her kidneys, stared at the roof of the Caddy, and let out a cry fashioned from the incomprehensible loss inside her.

Vinny yanked the.38 up in a beautiful move, showing just how incredibly fast he was. No one could have ever had a chance against him. He pressed the barrel under his chin and gave a grin that made Dane whimper, thinking, How will I explain this to Maria?

Vinny pulled the trigger and took off the back of his skull, fucking up the beautiful interior of the '59 Caddy. He managed to heave a sigh of satisfaction as he flopped into Dane's arms.

They stayed like that for a while.