The Big Enchilada

below my shoulder, knocking me back about six feet. He sensed a kill and came charging at me full speed, his thick arm straight out at his side, planning to cut me in half. At the last second I turned sideways, caught his wrist in both of my hands, and swung him away from me. His speed and the suddenness of my move propelled him into the wall of the building, and he hit it face forward, arms spread out, unable to break the impact. He hit with a tremendous splat and seemed to stick there.
    I was upon him before he had a chance to recover and got one of his arms in a brutal hammerlock, bringing his hand up nearly to his head. When I pulled him away from the wall, there seemed to be an outline where his body had struck the stucco. He twisted and squirmed his massive body, and he tried to reach behind with his free arm, but my hold was too good, and the only way he would get out was by dislocating his shoulder.
    I applied still more pressure and there was a high-pitched grunt of pain.
    “Now, what about Mountain?”
    “Fuck you,” he squeaked.
    Maintaining my hold, I slammed him into the wall. He grunted again. I repeated my question. He repeated his answer. It looked like we could keep up this routine almost indefinitely, but I was starting to grow numb from where he hit me, and I knew I couldn’t hold him much longer. I looked around and got an idea.
    Being careful to keep my grip, I got my fingers in the neck of his T-shirt and pulled hard, ripping it completely down his back.
    “Hey!” he squeaked in surprise.
    I took advantage of his brief disconcertion to pull the shirt °ff him without losing my position of control. His upper body Was as round, smooth, hard, white, and hairless as that which Save him his name.
    “What are you—”
    I cut him off by roughly turning him around. I marched him into the parking lot, away from the building. As we approached the edge of the shadow cast by the building, he Understood what I had in mind, and he started to struggle and plead in panic.
    He tried to dig his heels in, but I pushed the albino out of the shadow and into the powerful, brilliant sunlight. I turned him around to face the sun.
    “Stop! You’ll kill me! You’ll kill me!” Almost immediately his skin started to turn pink.
    “Talk. Tell me about Mountain.”
    “I don’t know anything.” His already high voice rose in panic as he tried unsuccessfully to struggle free.
    “Talk, or I’ll keep you here until you fry and turn black and shrivel up like a sausage.”
    “Okay, okay! I’ll talk. Only let me get into the shade. You’ll kill me.” His skin was turning bright red in spots. “Talk.”
    “Yeah. I know Mountain, but I don’t know anything about him. He comes in once in a while. He was in yesterday, that’s how I heard about you. That’s all. Please.”
    “Who does he work for?”
    “I don’t know.”
    “Who does he work for?” I applied more pressure to his arm.
    “I don’t know. For the love of Christ, I’m telling you the truth! I don’t know.”
    I pushed his arm some more.
    “I swear to you, I don’t know. Look. He used to work at a place called the Black Knight—some kind of private club— but there was trouble there, and he don’t work there anymore. Please! Let me into the shade.”
    “Keep talking.”
    “Jesus Fucking Christ, there’s nothing to say. Only that he didn’t seem bothered at losing his job. Got a better one. For somebody real big, he said.”
    “Who?”
    “I don’t know. Look, you got to believe me. If I knew, I’d tell you.”
    “He ever say anything about Domingo?”
    “Nothing.Mountain don’t talk much, except about guys he’s torn apart. He likes to talk about that.”
    “What else is there?”
    “There’s nothing. I swear. I’m dead if you don’t let me into the shade. Please.” His voice was going weak. He was red all over now and his skin was blistering in places.
    “If that’s all there was, why did you put up such a fight?” “I don’t know. I’m sorry I did it. Only Mountain, he don’t like people talking about him. And I don’t want to get in bad with Mountain. You got to believe me!”
    I did. Cueball was telling me the truth because he knew if he didn’t I’d keep him out there until he burned up.
    I gave him a hard shove as I released him, and he scrambled into the shade where he collapsed. He was starting to- swell up and go all puffy. They’d have to call him “Tomato,” at least for a while.
    He looked up at