Guns Will Keep Us Together

Chapter 1

"The Addams Family credo. 'Sic gorgiamus allos subjectatos nunc.' We gladly feast on those who would subdue us. Not just pretty words." – Morticia Addams, The Addams Family

Getting a phone call can be a good thing. It could be someone calling to inform you of an inheritance, or that cute blonde you met last night begging for another round of "find the kielbasa."

On the other hand, it could be the doctor calling to tell you that you did, indeed, pick up an intestinal parasite while in Uruguay, or the husband of the aforementioned blonde saying he will be stopping by this evening with a baseball bat. It's all a matter of where you are and what you're doing that can turn a simple phone call into a bonus or disaster. This was one of the latter. I was in the middle of working when my cell rang.

Now, when I say I was working, I mean to say I had my foot on a man's throat, slowly crushing his trachea. That's my job. My name is Dakota Bombay, and I'm an assassin. Of course, the fucking phone begins to ring, and the worst part was that it was playing Don't Worry, Be Happy.

To be fair, I'd just gotten the phone and didn't have time to change the ring tone. But how do you scare the hell out of your victim if some stupid shit like that is playing? My victim began to smirk. I scowled and pressed harder with my foot.

Damn. The caller I.D. showed that this was one call I had to take.

"Mom," I spoke, never losing eye contact with the guy under my shoe. Did I imagine it or did he smirk again? "This is a bad time. I'm working here." I pressed a little harder until I got that oh-so-satisfying gurgle.

"Fine." Mom sniffled, and blew her nose into the phone. She was crying. "Call me in five." And with that, Carolina Bombay hung up. Fanfuckingtastic.

"Not your lucky day." I said to Vic as I pulled out my silenced Glock .45. "Normally, I'd make this look like an accident. But I just got a call from Mom, so I have to do this the old-fashioned way."

I pulled the trigger twice, and with a thffft thffft, it was over. In a few moments I'd retrieved the two spent casings, scanned the area for any evidence I might have left behind, then walked out of Vic's life (or should I say, death?).

Back to top    Close Window