3 | Escorting the Executioner
Marko woke up as the sun crawled over Utah. Someone was knocking at the front door. Again and again and again. He got up and answered the door. Sheriff Lima was standing on Marko's door step with an officer behind him.
"Mornin' Pheonix."
"John."
Marko didn't know the kid standing behind Jonathan Lima, but he knew he was a fresh one.
"I'm gonna git right down to business here, Mark. I've got three dead officers, a dead detective, and a dead chief of police. All within the past two days. Officer Holland, he was knew, you probably never met him; was shot to death on the highway two nights back. Then I've got a whole shot up station, full of dead cops. Now they're sending in some people from upstate, couple of civil service workers, cops and such. Don't you worry 'bout a thing, we ain't short-handed or nothin' of the sort."
"Then why you comin' down here with this boy behind ya, Sheriff?"
"Just wanted to let ya know what's been going on around town, Pheonix. Wonderin' too if you seen anythin' suspicious in the past few days."
"Can't say I've seen a damn thing, John."
"Alright Pheonix. You just let me know about anything or anything you may need, you got my number."
John turned and left and the officer quickly followed.
A half hour later Marko was loading a duffel bag into the trunk of his car and a cooler in the back seat. He had put in several water bottles and Cokes after finally shattering a bottle of whiskey against his driveway following much contemplation. He started his car and drove up the road and made a left on Center Street and, after three blocks, a right onto Main Street. He continued up 191 and pulled into the Super 8 parking lot.
Marko cut the engine after parking and got out and popped open his trunk. The door numbered 8 opened and Brian walked out, followed by a skinny man with a shaved head carrying a backpack.
"Marko Phenoix. Dominic Fredrick."
The two shook hands.
"Well," Brian started. "You boys have a good trip upstate. Best be gettin' on now, I hear the sheriff's already makin' the rounds."
"Who'd you send to the station, Brian?"
Brian stopped for a moment and squinted at Marko, "What did you say?"
"Who'd you send to wipe out the police station?"
"That ain't none a your God damned business."
"Was he pickin' up that boy? or layin' him down, Brian?"
"This ain't the time or the place for none of this talk, Marko. Now you get in that fucking car and you get up to Fort Duchesne or this man right here will kill you."
"So I guess I don't have a choice then do I?" Marko didn't want an answer. He got into his car and so did Dominic. Brian entered the Super 8 office as the car pulled out of the lot and made a left going north on 191 and disappeared into the outskirts of Moab City, Utah.
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
Tangent Episode Two
2 | Six Shot Psychopath
Marko woke up in the morning. The sun shoved itself through the blinds and Marko turned on the television. The news was on, showing police and police tape in the middle of the desert. Several bodies lay on the screen in morgue bags as a reporter narrated. Then the news shifted to a road detour, an empty cop car, several other cop cars, police tape, several deputies, and one body bag. The headline read: "New police officer shot to death on Rt 191"
Marko rubbed his eyes and got out of bed. He picked up his phone and dialed Brain Stephens.
"Yes."
"Brian," Marko paused, "what exactly did this guy do? and who is he?"
"I knew you'd come around buddy; his name's Dom Fredrick and he's the guy I set to lead the execution."
"And why does he gotta get out of the county if the cops don't have nothin' on him?"
"Well," Stephens sounded tired, "the police picked up one of the kids who helped Dom out on this one. Kid's name is Nathan and they got him holed up in the county jail, probably shoving so much God-damned bribes up his ass, that my name's coming right out of his throat."
"So you want me to take this Dom guy upstate -- what about this kid in jail?"
"Don't you worry 'bout that, Phoenix. Just be at the Super 8 tomorrow at ten."
Across town a man wearing a baseball cap and bluejeans and a white polo with blue inner-collars and a thick pair of aviator sun glasses walked into the Moab City Police Station and shot the man sitting at the desk with a ten-gauge shotgun. The point-blank shot blew the mans head into the glass wall behind him and every officer in the station dropped to his knees.
The man continued through the lobby and into the main office, firing on every moving thing in the room. Shot after shot, it seemed as if he could not run out of ammunition. An officer lay sprawled out on the floor before the chief's door. The man stepped over him and shot the door open and dropped his shotgun and developed a revolver from his belt.
The chief was behind his desk. He fired a blind a shotgun above his head, nearly killing the man, but within a moment the man circled his desk and shot the chief point blank in the back of his ear.
The station lay dead. The man crossed through it to the jail wing and entered it. He walked past four cells and stopped in front of the fifth. A kid no older than nineteen was sitting there, staring at the man. In the next moment he was on the ground, staring at his own blood, pooling from his open skull.
Marko woke up in the morning. The sun shoved itself through the blinds and Marko turned on the television. The news was on, showing police and police tape in the middle of the desert. Several bodies lay on the screen in morgue bags as a reporter narrated. Then the news shifted to a road detour, an empty cop car, several other cop cars, police tape, several deputies, and one body bag. The headline read: "New police officer shot to death on Rt 191"
Marko rubbed his eyes and got out of bed. He picked up his phone and dialed Brain Stephens.
"Yes."
"Brian," Marko paused, "what exactly did this guy do? and who is he?"
"I knew you'd come around buddy; his name's Dom Fredrick and he's the guy I set to lead the execution."
"And why does he gotta get out of the county if the cops don't have nothin' on him?"
"Well," Stephens sounded tired, "the police picked up one of the kids who helped Dom out on this one. Kid's name is Nathan and they got him holed up in the county jail, probably shoving so much God-damned bribes up his ass, that my name's coming right out of his throat."
"So you want me to take this Dom guy upstate -- what about this kid in jail?"
"Don't you worry 'bout that, Phoenix. Just be at the Super 8 tomorrow at ten."
Across town a man wearing a baseball cap and bluejeans and a white polo with blue inner-collars and a thick pair of aviator sun glasses walked into the Moab City Police Station and shot the man sitting at the desk with a ten-gauge shotgun. The point-blank shot blew the mans head into the glass wall behind him and every officer in the station dropped to his knees.
The man continued through the lobby and into the main office, firing on every moving thing in the room. Shot after shot, it seemed as if he could not run out of ammunition. An officer lay sprawled out on the floor before the chief's door. The man stepped over him and shot the door open and dropped his shotgun and developed a revolver from his belt.
The chief was behind his desk. He fired a blind a shotgun above his head, nearly killing the man, but within a moment the man circled his desk and shot the chief point blank in the back of his ear.
The station lay dead. The man crossed through it to the jail wing and entered it. He walked past four cells and stopped in front of the fifth. A kid no older than nineteen was sitting there, staring at the man. In the next moment he was on the ground, staring at his own blood, pooling from his open skull.
Monday, August 4, 2008
Tangent Episode One
1 | Marko's on Meds
Marko grabbed the set of keys from the nightstand. A copy of the paper kicked across the floor as he left. He walked across his front lawn and got into his car and started it and turned on the light so he could read.
The letter read:
Dear Mr. Pheonix,
Your request for reinstatement has been declined by the board of...
And he stopped reading it. He put the car into drive and pulled out from his street. He kept the windows down to catch a cross breeze that massaged his temples. But the chill helped him stay awake. He needed to stay awake. If he fell asleep and crashed, they would do a blood test.
He passed Grand County High School and made a right onto 191 and took it for about a half hour north to Crescent Junction. Marko pulled up in front of the restaurant and went inside.
Brian Stephens was sitting at a table when he waved Marko over, "Evening Pheonix."
"Evening, Brian."
They talked for a little over the seven men executed in between Route 191 and Ten Mile Road:
"Seven men were driven out two-and-a-half miles from Ten Mile Road, lined up, and shot down. Some teenagers driving down 191 in the middle of the night, probably after drinking a few, heading back down to Moab; were looking out over the desert and said they saw what looked like fireworks. The Sheriff headed down there in the morning and found seven bodies shot to death and tire tracks all over the place. Couldn't trace the tires and couldn't find any shell casings," said Brian.
"What you see that on television?"
"Ain't got no television. I did it."
Marko choked on his food, "You what now?"
"I had those seven men shot. And I need your help?"
"What could you possibly want from me?" Marko was now hoarse and whispering.
"I need you to take this guy up to Uintah County. There's a house up in Fort Duchesne."
"No way in hell I'm doin' it. I'm tryin' to get reinstated."
"Reinstated? How soon ago was the last time you drank? How many pills did you pop before you got here? Face it Pheonix, you're never going to be a deputy again. You are never going to be a sheriff. Especially when you hang around with guys like me. Fuck that life Pheonix."
Brian got up and dropped a stack bills. As he left he patted Marko on the shoulder to let the fact that he was right sink in.
About twenty minutes passed and Marko was tired of staring blankly at the table. He got up and left and got into his car and pulled out and head south on 191. He was drinking a beer like usual when a cop pulled him over just south of Canyonlands Field. Half-drunk he took the revolver from his glove box opened the door and stood up and shot the officer five times.
Marko grabbed the set of keys from the nightstand. A copy of the paper kicked across the floor as he left. He walked across his front lawn and got into his car and started it and turned on the light so he could read.
The letter read:
Dear Mr. Pheonix,
Your request for reinstatement has been declined by the board of...
And he stopped reading it. He put the car into drive and pulled out from his street. He kept the windows down to catch a cross breeze that massaged his temples. But the chill helped him stay awake. He needed to stay awake. If he fell asleep and crashed, they would do a blood test.
He passed Grand County High School and made a right onto 191 and took it for about a half hour north to Crescent Junction. Marko pulled up in front of the restaurant and went inside.
Brian Stephens was sitting at a table when he waved Marko over, "Evening Pheonix."
"Evening, Brian."
They talked for a little over the seven men executed in between Route 191 and Ten Mile Road:
"Seven men were driven out two-and-a-half miles from Ten Mile Road, lined up, and shot down. Some teenagers driving down 191 in the middle of the night, probably after drinking a few, heading back down to Moab; were looking out over the desert and said they saw what looked like fireworks. The Sheriff headed down there in the morning and found seven bodies shot to death and tire tracks all over the place. Couldn't trace the tires and couldn't find any shell casings," said Brian.
"What you see that on television?"
"Ain't got no television. I did it."
Marko choked on his food, "You what now?"
"I had those seven men shot. And I need your help?"
"What could you possibly want from me?" Marko was now hoarse and whispering.
"I need you to take this guy up to Uintah County. There's a house up in Fort Duchesne."
"No way in hell I'm doin' it. I'm tryin' to get reinstated."
"Reinstated? How soon ago was the last time you drank? How many pills did you pop before you got here? Face it Pheonix, you're never going to be a deputy again. You are never going to be a sheriff. Especially when you hang around with guys like me. Fuck that life Pheonix."
Brian got up and dropped a stack bills. As he left he patted Marko on the shoulder to let the fact that he was right sink in.
About twenty minutes passed and Marko was tired of staring blankly at the table. He got up and left and got into his car and pulled out and head south on 191. He was drinking a beer like usual when a cop pulled him over just south of Canyonlands Field. Half-drunk he took the revolver from his glove box opened the door and stood up and shot the officer five times.
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