No Rest 4 Wicked Botniks Chapter 14

Bobby Malone #8: Voice; Death; Smoke

Tyler B. Morrison

Oct 07, 2023

Available for iOS and Android

CHAPTER 14 Bobby Malone #8:

Voice; Death; Smoke

“Listen to me, Alyosha.” The Voice was very deep, calm and flat, with a small accent but with little emotional affect. “I need you to hear me now,” the speaker said, now the voice of a father or grandfather through the static like brown leaves being raked over and over again.

That voice…that voice, no… Could it be Fyodor the Bloody himself? Was that the actual Fucking Vitsin on the line?

Bobby’s bowels quivered, and without thinking about it, he fell down to sit cross-legged next to Dmitry’s body behind the thick bar. His big ol’ gun clanked on the floor as it fell from his limp, unthinking fingers. Then Bobby cradled the bartender, glass, booze, stink, and all, like he was his own kid.

The Voice on the End of the Line… Bobby knew it had to be Vitsin’s, because tonight was tonight, and tonight was the night he died. Wherever she was, Monica would never even know, unless they told his crazy wife where to find her husband’s chopped-up manhood. He swallowed his own vomit without thinking.

Vitsin spoke, and the static was filled with the gentle tones of a soothing grandparent, but the words of a hardened criminal: “I do not care if Dmitry lives or dies tonight. Yes, Alyosha, I am aware he is blood. Kith and kin. But my niece’s husband was too foolish to live through tomorrow.”

“But, Grampa,” the leader, Alyosha, murmured into his watch, into the static at the other end.

“Lisssten to me,” Fyodor hissed. The static became filled with the sound of his white-hot rage, an unsuppressed, unspeakable fury that spoke of an undeniable hatred and malice. “I want them dead. Both. Dead. Tonight! Dead.”

One of the Big Six’s words came from up on high like the Prince of Darkness himself, and Russian Satan sounded more and more pissed. “I am covered in cow’s and pig’s blood in my own limo,” Vitsin rasped through the mic. “I just got back from the shop. I will not slice meat again tonight. I will not CHOP UP another body before dawn. YOU will do this for me, Alyosha. YOU will kill them both, and then hang them up for all to see the price of betrayal. The price of a Truce broken. So shoot them, then cut them up, then hang them up for me, or I have no grandson either.”

Silence, inside and out. The only noise was the steady static.

Then the Butcher of East Envy continued: “I do not care anymore what it costs me or you or anybody else. They are keeping me from my warmth, my love, my Anastasia. I want to fuck her tonight. Fuck her good and proper. I am done with both of those... Fools. So go. Go now. End this. End them. NOW.”

The Russians emptied their guns into the bar, and a final fight-or-flight instinct made Bobby grab poor Dmitry’s booze-soaked body and shove them both farther away from all the bullets that punched the holes and broke more bottles and covered the room in more booze and glass and heat.

No fires, please, Christ! Bobby begged and prayed for the first time in ages. Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner!

Bobby cried like a child as the guns rained down.

He heard an explosion outside and shouting, and another botnik like the one he had killed earlier. It was whirring death and Hell among those inside. Please, God, no!

He would die just like his eldest brother, Johnny. Guns and a botnik would be the end of Bobby Malone.

He betrayed Dmitry in that final moment, and held him like a shield-roof over him, hoping the bullets and shells and blades would find him instead. Hoping the botniks would find a Russian instead of a Texan.

Bobby vomited and kept sweating and weeping as the guns emptied everywhere.

Then darkness overtook him at last.

Then, after the last shells left the chambers, after the cries of agony ended, there was silence in the bar, and smoke filled the Rusty Schooner.

END OF CHAPTER 14