Bookman's promise

minute on this earth.

“Are you scared, Dante?”

Even then he couldn’t say it.

“Are you scared?”

His lower lip trembled. His head scrunched down between his shoulders and he closed his eyes.

“What’s going on in that pea brain of yours? Is it fear? Are you scared?”

Go on, stop talking, I thought. Kill him.

For Christ’s sake, stop playing around and just do it. The hell with history and notebooks, just do it. I took a deep breath. “So long, stupid…”

Then he cracked. It came out of him as a pathetic, whimpering sound. “Please…don’t do this…” “Please? Did you say please?”

I put the gun to his ear, he groaned out a “No…please…” and for the second time I backed away.

I stuck the gun in my belt. He could’ve made a grab for it: he didn’t dare. He had never made a move for his own gun, which I now frisked away from him and threw into the sea.

I gripped his shirt and balled it up in my fist, drawing him close. “You got one last chance to live, Dante. Here’s what’s gonna happen. Later this morning you will get your fat ass on a plane back to Baltimore. There you will wait for further instructions. It might take a week or a month, but at some point a friend of mine will come visit. He will make damn sure you understand me this time. You are going to hurt for a long time after he sees you, but if you resist, or if you surround yourself with bodyguards and armor, it will be much, much worse. You had better listen to what he says because there won’t be any more chances. I’m telling you the truth now and you’d better believe it. He will tell you what to do and he’ll tell you in a way you’ll never forget. You’ll be told what you must do to stay alive. That’s your choice, asshole. Agree or die right now.”

I took out the gun and cocked it and he whimpered out a watery “Okay.”

“Okay what?”

“…Whatever…whatever you say.”

“You got that right, Dante. Now get the hell off my fort.”

I rolled him to the edge and pushed him off. He flailed away at the air and I heard him hit the ground with a mighty grunt. He rolled over desperately sucking air, all the wind knocked out of him, maybe some bones broken; I didn’t know and I didn’t care. I sat in the dark, cross-legged and invisible, and after a while I did peer over and I saw them loading Dante onto the boat. He looked hurt bad. They pushed away, the oar squeaking, the boat fading slowly in the early morning. They slipped out into the water and disappeared. A few minutes later I heard the motor start as they turned back toward Charleston.

CHAPTER 38

I was still sitting there when the sun cracked over the sea. The harbor was empty at dawn, a couple of sailboats just heading out from the marina. Erin came out. I was facing the wrong way to see her, but I heard her climbing up to the wall and I knew who it was. She picked up my balled-up coat and sat beside me.

“What happened?”

“Nothing,” I said. But I looked in her face and I knew I couldn’t sell that and I’d better not try. “They came for us during the night. Three of them got thrown off the wall. Dante might be hurt pretty bad.”

She sat down beside me. “Well,” she said, and that was all for a moment.

“If this didn’t discourage him…” I shrugged.

“Wish I could’ve helped you.” She put an arm over my shoulder. “I slept like a baby.”

“That’s good.”

“Cliff?”

“Yeah?”

“About us…”

“What about us?”

“I don’t know.”

We sat watching the sun, listening to the waves lap against the fort.

“What now?” she said.

“Now we go into Charleston and get our car.”

“Are we still looking over our shoulders?”

“In the long run, who knows? You can never know with a guy like that.” I shrugged. “I think we’re safe for today at least.”