Blunt Darts

store? He can identify you.” Blakey unfolded his arms, and his face darkened “How did you...?” Then he laughed. “Oh, I get it. You figured out that’s how I found you. Well, you’re right, but that clerk won’t know whether I found you here alive or dead.”
    I definitely didn’t like his tone, but I was running out of deflections.
    “Just in case you might try and warn the kid, you’re gonna hafta go to sleep for a while. But first,” he said, as he wrapped a handkerchief around his knuckles, “a little warm-up for your swan dive.”
    I got my left leg, the one he’d kicked, to bend a little. “I’ve got a secret about the kid that I’d like to share with you first.”
    “Nice try, asshole,” he said as he cocked his fist. “You think the kid’ll climb up when he sees the open hatch?”
    Blakey straightened up. He looked at the hatch and pursed his lips. “Maybe you’re right.” He ambled over and lowered the hatch. What I didn’t mention was that Stephen, who must have made the climb a dozen times or more, sure as hell would notice the broken rung on the ladder. I was banking that with the hatch shut, Blakey wouldn’t notice him noticing. Blakey walked back to me, and I tried to think of more episodes of the Arabian Nights. No luck.
    “I’ve got another secret about Stephen,” I said.
    “What is it?” he replied.
    “If I keep telling you secrets, will you keep me awake?” I thought about what Thom Doucette had said regarding Blakey’s sensitivity.
    “What the fuck is it?” he demanded.
    “Well,” I said, fluttering my eyelids, “Stephen told me that big, strong court officers really turn him on.” Blakey bent down and gave me a wicked shot at the back of the right side of my jaw and front of my ear. The other side of my head bounced off the floor.
    He then grabbed my shirt with both hands and lifted me to a semi-standing position. I’d known my only chance was to get him mad enough to treat me as harmless. He held my shirt with his left hand and let fly with his right. Before his fist could connect, I used his left hand as an anchorpoint and flipped back as violently as I could. With his left holding me, that brought my feet up toward his groin, and I lashed out with all the kick I could manage.
    I cracked my head against the sill as I came down. My eyes wouldn’t focus. I could see one and a half of him doubled over, with his three hands futilely trying to stem the spread of a dark stain at the crotch of his Pants.
    I shook my head as clear as I could and then levered onto my back. I swung my legs at his head and connected, but I got the impression that I’d only distracted him from his more immediate concern. As flopped around, he swung backhand at my side, and I felt a rib break. The pain was incredible, and I Prayed that it hadn’t punctured a lung. Then he clouted me in the face with another backhand that sent me back into the sill. I could feel the room slipping away, and I knew I was going under. Then I heard a clacking noise, like a softball player opening a pop-top beer can. Then another and another and... A tree fell and pinned my legs under it.
     
     
     

     
     
    I couldn’t move my legs, but I could rub them against each other a little. They felt sticky, as if ice cream had melted on them but hadn’t quite dried. I opened the one eye that would open. The room was still light. The tree across my legs was Blakey. He was half on his side, and his blood had soaked through his pants. And mine.
    His head was about fifteen inches from my eyes, but his face was turned away from me. The back of his neck looked funny. There were round, raw holes in it, two just above his hairline. It was as if someone had thrown large, blunt darts at him, darts that had first stuck in, then had fallen away. There was one downward trickle of blood from each hole. I fell asleep again.
     
    The next time I woke up, someone was pouring water into my mouth. Just a little. It tasted salty, probably from the dehydrated blood flakes in my mouth. I opened my eyes. It was nearly dark. Stephen was over me. Blakey was not in sight. Stephen’s hands were dirty.
    “Blakey?” I croaked.
    “I took care of him,” he answered.
    I dropped back off to sleep.
    I woke up to birds singing, light again, and more water. I felt weak but not much pain. Then I noticed that my hands were untied. I started to get up, and it felt as if someone set off an A-bomb in my left side. I stopped breathing and