Gin Palace 01 - The Poisoned Rose

one last time, in the front fender. It was like a chain reaction. The Caddy lost control then and began to spin. It rode back up onto the shoulder, kicking up earth and grass. The feeling of being lifted increased and I braced myself for a roll. But instead of rolling we slid sideways down a short ditch and stopped dead against the trunk of a tree. We slammed with such force I felt my kidneys shift in their sockets.
    Augie’s side of the truck had impacted with the tree. The driver’s door window had been shattered by the side of his head. The force of the sudden stop had flung me so hard against my seat belt that I thought I may have popped a rib.
    Augie was dazed. His eyes looked glassy, and his lids blinked a lot. He looked surprised, and there was blood in the creases in his forehead. I heard a car skid to a stop on the rainy road above. But I couldn’t see anything. The windshield had shattered and popped out, and there was rain in my eyes. The car on the road above was certainly the car that had rammed us from behind.
    I looked over at Augie. Both his arms were up and out in front of him, like he was trying to find his way in the dark. We didn’t have much time.
    “Augie,” I said. “Augie.”
    He looked at me but I don’t think he saw me.
    “Can you move?” I reached down for my belt and undid the buckle. It came free easily.
    From the street above I heard a car door open and close. With the windows gone the rain sounded louder. Fine drops bounced up from the dashboard and into my face.
    I reached over and fumbled for Augie’s seat belt.
    “Can you move?” I said.
    He looked at me. It took a moment for his eyes to focus on me. He nodded once. I undid the belt and heard voices coming from the street above. We didn’t have time.
    “Are you hurt?” I whispered.
    He said nothing. I reached up and took hold of his large head with both hands and looked at the cut on his forehead. It looked superficial to me. I aimed his face at mine and checked his eyes. He looked at me, and there was a degree of cognition.
    “We have to move. We have to move now.”
    My words seemed to reach him then. I could see it in his eyes. He nodded again. This time there was more certainty in it.
    “Let’s go,” I said.
    “My 1911. Where is it?”
    I looked at the glove compartment. It was open. The gun was nowhere to be seen.
    “I don’t know,” I said.
    “Find it.”
    “We don’t have time. We have to move.”
    I grabbed the passenger door handle and jerked it up. The door swung open on a creaking hinge. I slid out and reached for Augie. He was looking around for his gun, feeling the seat covered with broken glass. I grabbed him by his jacket and pulled him toward me. My rib protested sharply. Once he was across the seat, I pulled him through the door. It became clear to me fast that I wasn’t going to be able to hold him. But before either of us could do anything he fell. I went down with him. He was as heavy as a refrigerator and landed on top of me. Most of his weight was on my legs. I was pinned and couldn’t move.
    We heard two voices up on the street then and waited where we were, listening. The voices belonged to the driver of the Caddy and the driver of the car that had rammed us from behind. I could hear only some of their words clearly through the rain.
    “It went down this ditch … Over here … They saw the whole fucking thing … No … Over here …”
    I scrambled out from under Augie and got up. I tried to pull him to his feet. He did what he could to help. We fumbled but he finally got up. I moved in next to him and wrapped his left arm around the back of my neck. Side by side we stumbled through the mud and around the truck. Augie was still too dazed to walk well, and he was too heavy for me to shoulder and carry. After a few feet we dropped to the ground again behind the tree into which the pickup had crashed. I landed on a root and felt it dig hard into my side. I was out of breath already, my chest heaving. Augie seemed to be struggling toward consciousness, like someone trying to wake up quickly from a deep sleep. There was nothing we could do but lie there together in the mud by the base of that tree and wait.
    I looked around the tree and spotted the first man as he appeared at the top of the bank. He was just a silhouette in the rain. He looked down at the truck, then glanced over his shoulder and waved someone behind him to follow.
    “Hurry,” he called.
    A second man appeared