Independence Valley
Thurston County
United States of America
12 August, 1986
1030

The girls were in the back of the pickup, sitting with Nancy. It was a nice warm summer morning and more than a few bugs had already splatted against the windshield of the truck. The stereo in the truck had given up the ghost before we'd gassed up at the Grand Mound AM/PM service station, so John and I were in the front seat, completely quiet.

"You sure this here things the right thing?" John broke the silence.

I nodded. "Yeah. Mamma Doutree will protect them. We've got a blood debt between mine and hers, she'll recognize it," I put out my cigarette in the ashtray and accepted another from John without any question or request.

"What's our target list?" John asked, again.

"Regina, she's gotta die," I growled.

John nodded, "Gotta kill her for what she done to all of us. You, me, Nancy, your sister, she gotta answer for all that with blood."

I nodded. "Her oldest daughter, she's in this asshole high on a tall Indian," I said.

He nodded at that. "Think that's why Regina is doing this?"

"Yeah. Power for her daughter, improve her bloodline's standing," I told him.

Regina's bloodline, and that of her daughter, was widely considered weak. Shallow bellied, to say the least. Regina had pushed for good marriages, but every one of them had dropped the ball. Few, if any, children and usually ending in divorce.

Plus, they weren't able to control their boys.

"Yer cousin?" He asked.

"He helped. He's one of the ones who brutalized my sister, even if he didn't take part in her rape," I took a deep drag and blew the smoke out of the side of my mouth, out of the window, thinking, "He's a mean bastard, former SEAL and SERE instructor, hates my Father with a passion over some shit from back in Vietnam."

"And the two Doutree boys," John finished.

"Yup," I downshifted as we approached the Doutree driveway.

"Who's the most dangerous?" John asked.

I thought for a moment, "Reggie's older than me, by two years, so I don't know that much about him. Mark's my age, he's always been a big guy, takes after his daddy, always acted like a tough guy, but now that I think about it, I ain't seen him fight ever."

John nodded. "Mark's the more dangerous then."

"Probably," I slowed down enough to make the corner, double-clutching and managing to keep the ass of the truck from slewing out. One of the girls in the back yelled something as the truck hit a pothole and almost threw them out.

We came around the short corner the revealed the Doutree's 'house', and I saw that there was a newish model Ford truck in the driveway, parked in such a way that it kept any of the older model sedans from being used.

"DISMOUNT!" I yelled at John, who was already throwing the door open. I spun the wheel, yanking on the e-brake, and the truck slewed around and slid, driver's side first, toward the new black Ford. John rolled out of the truck, the AR-15 in his fist, and came up on his feet as the truck shuddered to a stop.

"EYES ON!" John yelled as I killed the engine, grabbing the shotgun and bailing out. Nancy reached in through the rear slide window, grabbing the .30-.30 Winchester lever action and pulling it out into the back.

"On guard," She yelled as I pounded up the front porch.

I didn't bother knocking, just yanked open the door, flattening myself in case someone shot through the opening. Nobody did, so I bulled in, scanning the frontroom and the connected dining rooms.

Mama Doutree was bent over the sink, spitting blood into it. Her oldest daughter was staring at me, eyes still full of defiance, her lip split and blood running from her nose. The youngest girl was hiding under the table, and when she saw me she pointed out the back door.

"Reggie went that way!" she cried out.

"Come on out, Mark," I yelled.

"He's in Missy's bedroom with her," The oldest said. She gave me an evil smile, "Third on the right."

"Come on out, Mark," I said again, stomping down the hallway.

"Annie? Is that Little Orphan Annie?" Mark laughed.

"Come on out, Mark, no reason to put what's gonna happen off any more than ya have to," I taunted. "We both know how this is gonna end up."

The door of one of the bedrooms opened up, and Mark Doutree pulled his sister into the hallway. She was about 15, 16, and completely naked, with a busted up face and bite marks on her small breasts. Mark was over six and a half feet tall, made of ugly and mean.

"Tough guy, standing there with a shotgun," he sneered.

"Tough guy, hiding behind a little girl," I sneered back. I racked the shotgun real fast, and he tried to shrink behind Missy until the slide locked back, kicking each shotgun shell toward him, and I dropped the empty shotgun onto the ground. "Now what, punk?"

He threw Missy back into her room.

The lizard hit the combat button.

My awareness spread out, and everything was primed and ready before Missy even fully left his hands.

"Gonna kill you, Annie, for wut you did to mah paw," He said, cracking his knuckles.

"Gonna talk or  fight, faggot?" I asked him, bending slightly at the knees.

He did the dumbest thing I'd ever seen. He put his hands over his head, bent at the wrists, and some kind of weird hop-kick. It took me a split second to realize that he was doing that martial arts move from that movie about the kid and the old Japanese dude.

"Gonna fuck you up, Annie," He grinned.

"You look like a queer, Mark," I told him, dropping my hands down and shaking my head.

He threw some shadowpunches, with a "HI-YAH!" in there for good measure.

The lizard was staring at the screen in shock, his jaws gaped open, as Mark did a stupid looking foot shuffle then threw a fake kick that was telegraphed nine ways to Sunday.

"You done dancing?" I asked him. I'd backed up until I was in the front room proper.

Outside there were two gunshots, an AR-15, and I grinned at Mark.

"That would be Reggie," I smiled.

Mark went pale.

"Bomber's hunted men before, killed men, Reggie's either dead or disabled," I grinned at him. "You gonna try to take me, or keep jumping around like a Puerto Rican at prom?"

He bellowed out something and charged down the hallway.

On the second step he stepped on one of the shotgun shells.

The lizard laughed.

...I knew you were going to do that...

His foot went out from under him and he went face first onto the cheap linoleum, sliding to a stop in front of me.

When he looked up I kicked him in the face, slamming his open mouth shut.

"Get up, Doutree," I told him, stepping back.

He got up, shaking, his hand pressed to his mouth. "Gonna beat your ass, Annie," he told me. He swung twice, well, windmilled his arms at me twice. He actually windmilled his arms at me like we were in 2nd grade on the playground.

I kicked him in the balls and stepped to the side as he fell down holding his crotch.

"You've never been in a fight, have you?" I asked incredulously. "Have you been in one fight, you big ape?"

"Ya don't fight fair," He groaned, getting up slowly.

He was as tough as his father had been, but he wasn't used to fighting.

"Ain't no such thing as a fair fight," I told him as he got up on one knee.

Missy came out of the hallway, jeans and a T-shirt covering her, and she slid by her brother, looking frightened.

Mark finally pushed himself off of his own knee and, still bent slightly over the pain in his groin, stood up, one hand against the wall.

"Gonna beat you to death, Annie," He said, his voice a little shakey.

"Mark, I ain't no girl or someone ten years younger than you," I warned him.

He threw a looping punch that started behind his back and looped around, just missing the wall. I ducked under it, popped up, and gave him two fast jabs into his left eye. He staggered back, his left hand covering his eye and his right against the wall.

"Mark, yer outclassed, give up," I told him. His right hand went behind his back and he got a sly look on his face. I shook my head, "Don't do it, Mark. Don't do it."

He did the dumbest thing he could have.

He pulled a knife from behind his back.

"Gonna cut you up, Annie," He grinned.

I slapped his hand, hard, and the knife flew across the frontroom, hit the wall, and fell behind one of the duct-taped vinyl couches.

"Ow," he whined, grabbing his hand.

"Mark, give it up," I told him.

The lizard was looking embarrassed.

"He likes to stick it up our butts and make us lick it clean," Missy said, her voice shaking with rage.

The lizard no longer looked embarrassed, but instead gently pressed the combat down, nice and slow. Rage filled my system, and everything focused down to the white trash sister-fucking retard in front of me. I narrowed my eyes and glanced at Missy, who nodded.

"That true, Marky?" I asked him.

"Ain't yer business, Annie," He sneered, "Mind yer business."

"You rape my sister?" I asked him.

He thought he saw a way to hurt me with that and smiled savagely at me. "Sure did. Just like pa, I stuck it in her butt and made her scream." His grin got wider as I felt the hate pound through my veins. "She yelled fer her daddy to save her."

The knife came out from behind my back at the same time as I stepped forward, into him, grabbing him around the waist and pulling him close. His eyes opened wide and his mouth opened into an O of shock as I pulled my arm back and slammed it forward again.

"Still funny, bitch?" I asked him. His mouth opened and closed silently, and he went up on his tiptoes.

I stabbed him a third time, twisting the blade inside of him.

"Yeah," I whispered, pulling back my arm and stepping back.

His hands went to his stomach, where a bloody stain was spreading across his T-shirt. He shook his head, staggering backwards, as I flicked the blood off my Gerber with a practiced snap of the wrist.

"Still think it's goddamn funny?" I asked him, stepped forward.

He tried to turn around and run, but his left leg buckled and he fell against the table.

Before he could stand up I was on him, turning him around and hauling him all the way up on the dining room table. At the sound of the shotgun being loaded I glanced over and saw Missy reloading the 12 gauge Mossberg. I turned away, looking down at Mark.

"Still think what you did was funny?" I asked him, grabbing him by the throat.

"Hurt him, Annie, hurt him," The oldest whispered.

I drove the knife into his chest, a fingerwidth below his right collarbone.

"Still funny?" I asked as he screamed.

His scream turned bubbly when I repeated the action, stabbing deep into his chest, just under his left collarbone.

"Yer gonna go slow, Marky," I told him. He was breathing fast, trying to scream. Blood was spreading out from the stab wounds, staining his T-shirt. "Yer lungs are gone. Yer gonna suffocate."

I looked at Momma Doutree. "You and yer girls are the only hopes he has, Momma Doutree," I told her, one hand still pressed against his chest, putting pressure on his ribcage.

She just shook her head. "He was just as bad as his poppa," She told me. She looked at Missy. "She was always his favorite, since she was twelve."

Mark Doutree screamed as I stabbed him low, under the bellybutton, angling the knife up, slicing his diaphragm as I twisted the blade before pulling it free and wiping it on his shirt.

Mark tried to scream again, but he couldn't draw in a deep breath, his lungs punctured and diaphragm shredded. Blood bubbles were already coming out of his mouth, and he coughed a blood spray.

The door burst open and when I looked, John was dragging a man by the Levi jacket the man was wearing.

"If'n ya try ta run, make sure ya don't run outta breath in less than a half mile," John grinned. He slung the man onto the floor. "Two bullets convinced him that I meant business."

The man had torn strips of T-shirt on both thighs, already soaked through with blood.

I flipped Mark off the dining room table, no longer caring about the youngest of the Doutree boys.

"Get a kitchen knife, teach him you aren't to be touched like that no more," I snarled to Missy, who nodded.

I walked over to the man on the floor, who looked up when I stopped in front of him.

"Hello, Reggie," I smiled down at him.