Page 10 of After Midnight

CHAPTER THREE

DREAM MOORE

This has to be a dream.

My feet were planted in their place like a hundred-year-old tree. My eyebrows were raised, my lips parted and a soft chuckle sprang forth from somewhere within me. I sucked in a quick breath and covered my mouth as my heart raced, still disbelieving every bit of what my eyes filtered into my mind.

He reached behind himself with his right hand and used his open palm to push me a step back, creating additional space between us. “Three,” Sex-on-a-stick counted. He hadn’t counted to one or two, and skipped right past those numbers. He ran forward and covered the distance between him and the closest man in two steps.

Payton had called the warrior guy “Monroe.” He was without question the largest of the three and the biggest threat as far as I could see. He was also the closest to us, and the one Sex-on-a-stick chose to engage first. Monroe swung a wild, but strong right hand and hit nothing but air, as Sex-on-a-stick came in crouched and low. He exploded upward with his left hand balled tight in a tremendous fist and connected with the side of Monroe’s head. The force of the blow staggered Monroe and he stumbled into the right fist Sex-on-a-stick sent as a follow up attack to his midsection. It seemed like the punch blasted through Monroe, as he bent forward with a loud grunt and dropped to one knee. Sex-on-a-stick didn’t give Monroe a chance at recovery, because as soon as Monroe fell to his knee, Sex-on-a-stick delivered the final blow with his left fist, crashing it against Monroe’s temple with such force Sex also fell to the ground and landed on both hands. Monroe’s eyes rolled back into his head and he tumbled to the ground in a twitching, convulsing mess. The entire encounter lasted only a few seconds, and Sex-on-a-stick was back on his feet. He glared at the remaining two men, and curled his upper lip in a savage smile.

“You son of a bitch,” Club bouncer guy exclaimed and drove forward.

“Come here,” Payton called out.

Both men spread out and assumed the two points on a triangle, with Sex-on-a-stick splitting the difference between the two as the third point as they sought to surround him.

“You sure you want to do this?” Sex-on-a-stick asked. “You saw what I just did to your boy. You might want to get him some medical attention, cause if you do this then neither one of you will be awake to help him. And thenallof you are going to need some help.”

“I’m going to kill you,” Club bouncer guy growled.

“Bring it on,Ted,” Sex-on-a-stick goaded. “I need a practice dummy to go against. I’ve gotten rusty since I’ve been on vacation.”

Ted roared and charged like a raging bull from Sex’s left. Payton, in a coordinated effort, rushed in on Sex’s right side. Sex sidestepped Ted’s charge in a fluid motion to rival any a skilled bullfighter would do, and at the last possible moment smacked his left hand on the back of Ted’s head to guide him in the direction Sex wanted him to go. He pushed Ted forward to Payton who charged in like a bat out of hell, and the two men crashed into each other in a spectacular wreck of entangled arms and legs. If the atmosphere wasn’t charged with such danger, the way they collided with one another would have been comical.

Sex walked over to Ted and tilted his head as he stood over him. He then grabbed Ted by the scruff of his neck, pulled back, and slammed his fist into Ted’s face three times, each punch more violent than the last. Blood exploded from the battered face and splattered with each punch, like fireworks in a celebration, and signaled the end of Ted’s participation.

Payton used the opportunity of Sex’s preoccupation with Ted to make it back to his feet. He rammed into Sex’s side and wrapped both of his arms around Sex and pinned Sex’s arms to his abdomen. With a loud grunt, Payton picked Sex up and heaved him. Sex crashed onto the floor and moaned, and Payton pounced. He drove his leather boot into Sex’s exposed back, causing him to writhe in pain.

“Ow, fuck!” Sex-on-a-stick screamed. “Motherfucker!”

Sex flipped over onto his side, and Payton aimed another shot at his exposed midsection.

“You dumb fuck,” Payton taunted, and blasted the toes of his boot into Sex’s stomach. Sex doubled over into the fetal position and covered his chest. “Do you know who we work for?” Payton asked. “You’re dead. Dead!”

Payton took aim and fired another kick with his right foot and blasted it towards Sex’s head. Somehow, Sex vaulted to his knees, and swung his right forearm into Payton’s shin as the kick came forward. Payton recoiled in pain and howled, but Sex fired his left hand with the speed of a bullet into the side of Payton’s left knee. The collision of bone met with a sickening crack, and Payton’s knee collapsed on itself at such an unnatural angle, in the moment I wondered if he’d ever walk without aid again. Payton wailed as he collapsed to the floor with a thud. Some of his bone had popped through his jeans and now protruded through, allowing blood to flow through the hole.

Sex-on-a-stick rose to his feet and stretched his arms high and wide. He placed his hands on his hips and leaned one way, then the next, and then surveyed the carnage in front of him. He moved to the unconscious Ted, and ruffled through his pockets until he pulled out a large wad of cash. Then with a slow step, he walked to the stilled Monroe, and repeated his actions with Ted, going through each of his pockets until he found a lump of money. Satisfied with his haul, he limped over to Payton and stood over him, while Payton clutched his open wound with both hand and continued to howl with pain.

“I told you,” Sex-on-a-stick said as he inhaled and exhaled deeply with each breath. “You didn’t want to do that. Now, look at you. All three of you need medical attention and no one to help you.”

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