off on the next block.
I drove into the woods beside the back of the lot, instead of bouncing out on Barger Street behind it, where the stupid cop was no doubt waiting for us now.
The path in the woods widened just enough for the 4x4 to get through. I leaned over, looking for CDs. I reached under my seat, found a stack of them, and put the first one I found into the machine.
Christian music came on, telling us about how Jesus was all around us and was going to save us.
'Sounds good to me,' I said, laughing, so I put my foot on the brake, stopped the 4x4, put the muzzle of the gun to Billy's ear, and pulled off three shots into his head.
His body was still twitching when I pulled it out of the 4x4 and dumped it on the side of the dirt road. I put two more shots into his head, both nostrils, just to make sure.
The white lightning jar was uncomfortable in the front pocket of my pants, so I took it out and emptied it into my throat. I had to close my eyes, but it felt like I still had them wide open. They felt like they were on fire. All of me felt like I was on fire. I threw the empty jar out the window, and it rolled to Billy's head and stopped there.
The 4x4 was bulky at the end of the narrow woods road, but I got it through. I knew they'd be roadblocking on the two-lane ahead, and wanted to avoid it, but when I tried to climb the piney bank across the road, the truck nearly flipped over and I couldn't find a way through.
I put the gun on the seat next to me, and turned toward where the roadblock would be.
As I came around the corner toward it, I thought of the one way out.
The cops were so fucking stupid. There was another narrow access road just to the left of the crossroads they'd set up on, and I barreled down on them and then clutched and cut back to second gear and turned sharp left. They were all ready with their shotguns and they let go at me, but they were fifty yards away and I got behind the trees fast.
It was bumpier in here, but I knew where I was going and pretty sure I'd get there. Behind me, I heard one of the police cruisers try to follow and then hit something.
Just for the hell of it, I rolled down the window, picked up the gun, and shot at a bluejay I saw up in the trees.
Ahead, a doe leaped across the path, and I braked hard, leaped out, and chased it, pulling off shots. I hit it in the flank and it slowed, and I ran up on it and jumped on its back and fired shots into its head all around, even after it was down on the ground. For good measure I hit the skull with the butt of the gun and kicked it in until there wasn't much left that said deer. I noticed a bulge in the belly and saw that it was pregnant, nearly to term. Something was kicking around inside, so I reared back with my foot a couple of times and planted it in until the movement stopped. One last time I kicked, hard, and my boot went into the belly, making a nice hole, and something bloody with a tiny deer's head fell out.
I went back to the 4x4, checked the clip in the gun, saw that there were only five shells left. I reached into my pocket, found it empty, thought of all the clips in Billy's pockets.
'Shit.'
I thought of going back, heard cops, on foot, getting close behind. I floored the 4x4, kicking leaves, and drove on.
Pisser Johnson's still was only a half mile off the road, and I was at it in another couple of minutes. The shack holding it hadn't been knocked down by the feds, so I slammed the 4x4 into it.
The jars were in the brush-covered storm cellar ten feet away from the still. I paced out ten long steps due west, hit the sill plate with the toe of my boot, and bent down to brush away the pine needles and dry leaves that covered the door. We'd already busted the lock, so all I had to do was flip off the latch and pull the doors back.
It was rotten-smelling down there, and the steps were slippery. There was enough light to see about halfway down, then things got dark. I felt around with my boot, trying to find the last step, but I calculated wrong, and slipped, and went down forward. I felt the gun pop out of my belt and slide away from me in the dark.
It was then that I heard the first voice outside. I knew it was Sheriff Mapes right away; the old bastard was loud and heavy as a hog, and I heard him crunching away in the leaves and twigs. He halted, and there were other crunchings and what sounded like a motorcycle that roared to a stop.
'Jimmy Connel, you in there?' Mapes roared in his bellowed voice. He didn't sound too happy. 'You listen to me, boy!'
I scratched around on the floor in front of me, coming up with a handful of wet.
'You come out of there now, you hear me?'
I heard him, and wanted to let him know. I crawled forward, scuttling around now like a crab, and my hand fell on one of the jar cases. I reached up and in, finding the empty spot where me and Billy'd taken our two jars, and there was another one next to it. I lifted it out, unscrewed it quick, and drank some down. I waited while the fire roared around my eye sockets, and when it subsided, I could suddenly see a little in the damp dark and saw the gun laying about a foot to my right.
'I hear you, fat boy!' I shouted, jumping at the gun and scrambling halfway up the steps, holding the gun out and firing off a couple of shots.
I heard someone shout, 'Oh, shit!' and heard Sheriff Mapes say, 'Is he hit? Get him the hell out of here.'
'Come and get me, Sheriff!' I yelled, and then scrambled down to get the jar and drank off some more.
'I want you to listen to me, Jimmy Connel,' Mapes said. 'We know what you and your friend did. We found Billy lying back there, all shot up. What I want you to do is toss the gun out of the hole and walk right up to me. I'll get you a lawyer and everything. I don't want nobody else hurt. You hear me?'
Again I scrambled up the steps. I stuck my head up real quick, before they could get a good shot at me, I saw a couple of faces, one of them a deputy, the thin tall one with the hare lip who'd only been with Mapes a year, real close by, almost to the door of the hole, on his belly like a commando. I startled him, aimed, and put a hole right through the top of his skull
He screamed once and then went quiet.
They shot at me, but I was already back down the hole. I went for the jar again. When the white lightning went down, it felt like it was burning me all the way from the inside out to my skin. I threw the jar aside, fumbled back to the box, and got another out.
I heard them arguing outside, and then there was some more crunching in the leaves. I checked the clip in the gun, angling it toward the light, and sure enough there were only two more shells. I snapped the clip back in and waited while they argued.
A lot of them wanted to come in, storm the hole, but Mapes didn't want that. There was more discussion about tear gas. They all decided on that except Mapes, who wanted to try something else first. The rest of them said the hell with it, but Mapes was loud and he got them to shut up.
'Now, Jimmy' Mapes yelled out to me, 'I'm going to try one more thing with you. I'm going to try it, and then you're going to throw the gun out of the hole and come out of it with your hands in the clouds.'
He didn't wait for me to say anything or shoot, but then I heard Mapes say, 'Go ahead' and I heard my old man's voice.
'Jimmy boy, you hear me?'
I said nothing, but unscrewed the jar lid quick and took a long swallow down.
'Jimmy, I know you hear me, so listen to me now. You've done a lot of bad things here today. I want you to stop it now. I think you know what kind of trouble you're in. What if your Momma—'
I couldn't help myself. I started to cry. I clutched the jar hard, and took a hard swallow. 'Don't you do that!' I shouted out.
'Now, Jimmy,' my old man said, reasonable, 'these folks out here want to help you. No one's gonna hurt —'
'Tell them about my Momma!' I shouted out. I took another swallow of white lightning. 'Tell 'em how you beat her when I was four till she left! How you beat her again when she came back to get me, so bad she had to crawl away on her hands and knees! Tell them what you told her, that you'd cut my balls off if she came near the house again! Tell 'em what you been doing to me every night for the past eight years, how you been buggering me and making me use my mouth on you, and what you told me you'd do if I ever told anybody!' I was crying big tears and screaming. 'Tell 'em!'
There was no sound out there, just silence. I heard myself weeping. Then I stood up tall, right out of the hole, and took a shot at my old man. But he was hiding behind Mapes, and I winged the fat sheriff instead in the
