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9 | Six Shot's Social Siesta
The man was driving south on 191 while the police station began to rot miles north. He was on his way to Monticello in San Juan County. He got there in about an hour and stopped at his brother's house. He had about 24 hours. The news wouldn't broadcast the shootings till then. In the back of his mind, he figured that the Sheriff didn't even know yet.
"Hey brother," the man's brother pulled him through the crowded house. It was a mid-day-lets-get-drunk-and-high party.
"Hey, can I stay her for the night?"
And he stayed there for the night and got up before five in the morning and left before his brother knew. The news about the shooting came on the radio around seven. He listened to it closely, now heading for Winslow in Navajo County, Arizona. He thought about staying in La Posada.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The Sheriff walked into the station. He carefully made his way past the prone bodies, the floor stained with blood and still wet. He bent down over the chief's body and took the hat from off his face. His eyes were both shot out -- point blank.
The Sheriff couldn't stand looking so he looked down, but the blood on the floor nauseated him, so he looked up. And on the ceiling was blood, painted into large letters: "You started this."
The Sheriff slammed the front door open and emerged into the arid exterior of the police station. An officer was standing near his cruiser.
"Son, get on the road and head south."
"Where you goin', Sheriff?"
"I'm gonna go get Barnes and get some God damned people over here."
The two drove off in opposite directions.
8 | The Interrogation & The Journey to the Fort
The Sheriff sat down in front of Brian. The coffee withered towards the light above.
"Alright nephew, I'm not gonna take any bullshit, so give it to me straight."
"Ain't you already know what's goin' down, John."
"Don't call me that."
"Don't call me nephew."
After a moment Lima bit his lip, "So what I have gathered, is that those men off of Ten Mile were you, and so was that cop on 191..."
"What cop?"
Lima was at first threatened, but then realized he already had his nephew, "...anyways, you didn't exactly do it."
"Oh?"
"So the people you had do it are currently on the run. So what is it, Brian, down south? out west? north? they even in Utah anymore?"
"Well I don't think I can really tell you where they are. See I don't know. The only thing I do know," he leaned forward, "is that they're long the hell out of town."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Marko was getting pissed. They were not much more than a hundred yards away from the car when it suddenly exploded. Marko dropped and Dom grasped his gun.
"What the hell was that?" Marko said on his back.
"Shut up."
"How many of them are there?"
"Shut up."
A shot passed over and Dom ducked down and grabbed Marko. The two began running. They ran until they came to long stretch of river.
"Get down under that ledge," Dom pushed Marko towards the river. Marko got under a ledge near the river and waited in the dark. He thought about grabbing his revolver, but forgot about it.
They stayed in that spot for twenty minutes and then headed up river. They came up on a road and found a gas station, the lot full of cars.
"Go inside and get some water."
"What are you gonna do?" asked Marko.
"Get us a car."
Marko was tired of asking and went inside the gas station. He talked to the man behind the counter for a moment and then bought a case of water. A car pulled up in front of the gas station and Dom was in the driver's seat.
Marko entered the car hesitating, but the man in the gas station didn't know they were stealing it. Dom moved over and Marko got in. They drove away from the gas station and down the road.
"Well shit," Marko started.
"What?"
"You could have picked one with more gas in it."
"You wanna go back?"
"No."
They continued driving for an hour and a half and stopped in a store for directions. They had been heading south and had to cut west to get back on to 191. After two hours, they had passed the old burning car, but did not linger.
"They're long gone."
"And how's that?" Marko asked. "No, no -- don't even tell me."
They continued driving, almost three hours behind schedule.
7 | Fort Duchesne
Marko pulled the car around into the gas station. He filled the tank, which was already low four hours ago. He got back into the car and Dom pointed him towards the street he needed to get back on.
The house was real beat up and in the middle of a open area. It had only one floor and looked like an old retro model home. Apparently they never built the rest of them. There was no one inside or out and they set up in the bedroom. There were two single beds and all the rooms were fully furnished. The interiors were old and retro, but well kept.
Marko laid on his bed for about an hour, staring at the ceiling, while Dom sat in the other room watching television and drinking a beer. The refrigerator and cabinets and pantry were full of recently purchased goods.
"What's on?" Marko asked as he walked into the living room area.
"Olympics."
"China," said under his breath.
The phone rang. Marko answered it. It was Brian Stephens asking for Dom. Marko gave him the phone.
"Yeah," Dom turned with his back towards Marko. A long moment of silence was suddenly shattered by a sigh from Dom. Marko could see him reaching for his gun before he even did so. And in a second Marko had the revolver that he wrapped around his ankle in his hand. And in another second a bullet was cutting its way through the air, then slicing its way through Dom's shirt, then digging its way into the flesh on his back, then drilling its way through his spine, then penetrating his heart, and killing him. Dom fell over and hit his head against the marble end table.
Blood from Dom's heart and head pooled and streamed to the carpet, respectively. Marko approached the phone, still holding the revolver he had shot the officer and now Dom with. Brian was yelling on the phone, calling for Dom. Marko picked it up and held it to his ear.
"DOM!... Marko? Is that you, you punk?"
"Yeah."
"Where's Dom? Put him on."
"He's said he's too dead to come to the phone right now."
Brian was screaming now.
"Brian," Marko started, nearly on the verge of insanity, and yet utter tranquility, "calm down, I don't want you short circuiting before I get down there. You know, too much stress can kill ya. Instantly. I'll see you in a few."
Brian was still shouting when Marko hung up the phone. He wrapped the revolver around his ankle, grabbed the bag he had brought, took a long look at Dom, and then left the house.
6 | Playing Games
Brian Stephens walked into the diner and sat on a stool at the counter. The Sheriff sat several stools down from him. He was having eggs and bacon and a glass of Dr. Pepper. Brian gave him a smile out the corner of his mouth and turned towards the lady behind the counter and ordered an omelet.
"You know what's funny about this town?" The Sheriff said out the left side of his mouth as he bit a piece of bacon with the other side.
"You talkin' to me, Sheriff?" Brian had turned in his stool and held his finger to his chest.
"Yes," he drank the Dr. Pepper. "Yes I am, Brian."
"Okay," he turned back towards the counter, "what's so funny 'bout this town, John?"
"How killers and drug offenders just stick around."
"Just what the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"Watch your tongue and I'll tell you," Lima swallowed the Dr. Pepper. "You see, no matter how many times a man gets incarcerated in this town, its like he's stuck here. Sure he gets out of jail and such, but he never leaves. He sticks around. Goes for another round. Like Monopoly or something."
Brian began laughing.
"I say somethin' funny?"
"No, Sheriff. Its just you comparin' all that to Monopoly and all."
"Yeah. Guess Monopoly ain't the right game. I guess that's why its a game all in itself."
On that note the Sheriff stood up left his money for breakfast on the counter, "You have a good one Brian."
"You too, Sheriff."
Sheriff Lima began to head for the door, but stopped behind Brian and bent down and leaned towards him as if to whisper.
"Oh and Stephens."
"Yeah, John."
"I will get you you son of a bitch. You remember that."
The Sheriff began to leave.
"Soon as you watch your tongue," Brian started, "Sheriff."
The Sheriff left. Brian finished his breakfast after about twenty minutes and got up to leave after another five. He walked out of the diner to find three squad cars and five officers, including the Sheriff waiting for him.
"Where'd you get them, Sheriff?" Brian had his tongue behind his upper lip.
"Oh, around."
Brian smiled and then took off running around the side of the diner. The Sheriff quickly followed with the other officers. Brian got to the other side of the diner and began running uphill. The Sheriff stopped at the corner of the diner and held his revolver high. He fired a round into the air and Brian stopped. He turned and held his hands high.
"Brian!" The Sheriff wailed.
"What?" Brian said in a rough, defiant tone.
"Get the hell down here, boy!"
Brian descended the hill with his hands behind his neck and stopped in front of Sheriff Lima. One of the officers began to cuff him.
"Damnit boy, what in the hell's the matter with you?" The Sheriff shoved his revolver back into its holster.
"What difference does it make to you? I ain't your son."
"No, you're not. But you could at least show me some respect and stop callin' me 'John'."
"Well what the hell should I call you?"
"Well Jesus, Brian, I am your God damned uncle."
5 | Home on the Range
Marko and Dom were an hour away from Fort Duchesne when one of the tires gave out. Marko screeched to the side of the road, sure that the wheel was damaged. He got out and took a look at the tire. Dom got out of the car, "You got tools?"
"No."
"Well let's walk," he said as he began walking into the dirt and up the slope along the side of the hill.
"Wait," Marko intervened, "what the hell are you talking about?"
"We need to get moving, now come on."
"No we can't just go wandering out there. We're no where close to Duchesne."
Dom pulled his revolver from his belt and pointed it towards Marko.
"You either walk with me or you die."
The two stood there in silence, staring at each other for about six minutes.
"We need to get moving," Dom continued, "and we need to get moving now."
"What aren't you telling me?"
"Buddy," Dom said as Marko stepping towards him, "we need to get out of here."
"I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what's going on. I'm sure troopers would be happy to find my shot-and-dead ass out here in the middle of nowhere, with your bullets in me. We're being followed, aren't we."
"Yes."
"Fine, cowboy," Marko began saying as he walked past Dom to lead the way up the slope, "lets walk."
4 | Four Hours to the Fort
They stopped for lunch in Green River after under an hour of driving. When they were done they got back into the car and continued driving north on 191. Just north of Woodside a road block was waiting for them.
An officer approached the car as Marko rolled down the window. The cop asked for identification and Marko handed it over.
"Is there a problem sir?"
"Where ya headin'? Mark-o Ph-e-o-nix?"
"Fort Duchesne, sir."
"And your friend?"
"My cousin. Thomas."
"Just a second, Mark-o."
The officer left the car and took Marko's identification to another officer who entered a squad car.
"What the hell you tell him I was your cousin for?" Dom panicked.
"Just shut up and relax."
"And what you tell him we was goin' up to Fort Duchesne for? Why didn't you lie?"
"Cause lyin' is what you gets you in jail. Now shut up and sit there pretty."
Marko swung his head away from Dom and turned to watch the officers talking. The one who took his identification returned and gave it back to him.
"Thank you much, gents. Enjoy your drive."
Marko took his identification and continued driving past the road block. After about twenty minutes they were in Wellington.
"So what you think that was back there?"
"What?" Marko asked looking away from the road.
"That road block back there."
"Just a check."
"A check? What kinda check?"
"Traffic check."
"For what?"
"Us."
Dom shut up as Marko entered the town and left the town in a relatively short amount of time.
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.
