The Bridge

63

“Fuck you,” he said.

I crammed my boot fast and hard under his neck and pushed him back to the fire. His hair started to burn.

“Ahha,” he rasped as he squirmed trying to worm out of the fire, “Ohhh... stop! Stop... Dee! Fuck. Dee. Name is Dee.”

“You murdered the sheriff and his deputies of Appaloosa?” I said. “Yes or no?”

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” Dee said.

I shoved him back into the fire and he fought me, but I held him to it.

“Ahhh,” he cried.

I wanted to pull both triggers on my side-by-side and watch his face explode, but I took another tactic and let up on him.

“Oh, fuck,” Dee said, as I let him out of the fire.

“Oh, fuck...” he continued. “Oh, fuck...”

“This fella here with you and this goat?” I said. “He part of your rotten gang?”

Dee’s eyes were just wide with pain and madness.

“What’s your name, your real name?” I said to the man Virgil had his Colt leveled at. “You lie to me and I will burn you, too.”

“Dmitry,” he said.

Dee squirmed and I dug my boot into his neck.

“I ain’t done nothing,” Dmitry blurted out. “I didn’t kill nobody. Honest.”

Dmitry was a little man with a wool head cap. He had thin lips and slits for eyes.

“There’s gonna be a few options for you, Dmitry,” Virgil said. “One is you will die, the other is you will go to jail.”

“I didn’t do nothing to no one,” Dmitry said.

“How many are you, Dmitry?” I said.

“Fuck him,” Dee said.

Virgil looked around. I glanced around, too, and for the moment there was no one moving about except for the men fifty yards down the way in the darkness. The men were still chopping wood and they were unaware we were even in camp.

“How many are you, Dmitry?” I said.

Dmitry’s eyes worked back and forth.

“Talk,” Virgil said, as he pressed his Colt on Dmitry’s forehead.

“Seven,” Dmitry said, “There’s seven of us...”

Dee squirmed some more. He was clearly not liking the idea that Dmitry was forthcoming.

A hefty man wearing long johns walked out of the tent that was flanked by Chastain and Eddie. He saw Virgil and me, and Dee on the ground, and guns out. This sight was obviously a confusing and unexpected one.

“Wha... what’s going on out here?” he said.

“We’re just having a visit,” Virgil said.

“What?” the hefty fella said.

In an instant, Chastain was at his side with his rifle crammed into his ear.

“Down,” Chastain said quietly.

The man just looked to Chastain, and Chastain slapped him hard on the side of the head with the barrel of the rifle.

“Now,” Chastain said with a harsh hush.

The hefty guy did as he was told and got down on his knees. Chastain peeked quick into the tent, then looked to Virgil and me and shook his head, letting us know there was no one else inside. He put his boot in the middle of the hefty man’s back and shoved him hard face-first into the dirt.

“Don’t move a muscle,” Chastain said.

“Fat fella one of your clan?” Virgil said to Dmitry.

Dmitry glanced to Dee, then nodded.

“Eddie,” Virgil said.

Eddie was standing in the dark beside the tent and looked out a little.

Virgil nodded for him to step out.

“Here,” Virgil said.

Eddie moved out into the open road area, looking both to his left and to his right as he made his way over to us.

Dee cocked his head, looking at Eddie. He recognized him.

“I’ll be goddamned,” Dee snarled. “You fuck.”

Without saying a word, Eddie took one bounding step and kicked Dee so hard between the legs his head jerked forward and he busted his mouth on the barrels of my eight-gauge.

“Goddamn,” Dee cried, as he crunched his legs up and spit out pieces of his bloody teeth. “Goddamn...”