Garry Disher - Kick Back

Suddenly he yelled, ‘You’re gutless, Wyatt,’ and swirled around, snapping off random shots.

It didn’t seem to be panic shooting. He’s asking me to face him, Wyatt thought. It’s his moment of glory, the poor thug.

Wyatt waited. Sugarfoot turned and again moved off through the trees, heading toward the border with the orchard. Wyatt followed. He was about twenty paces behind Sugarfoot now. The challenges were becoming more frequent. ‘What are you, Wyatt? Scared? Too piss-weak to show yourself?’

Wyatt began to close the distance. The pines were beginning to thin out and he could see Sugarfoot more clearly. He was facing away from him. Wyatt saw him put his hand to his mouth and cry, ‘You’re gutless, Wyatt. Show yourself like a man.’

Wyatt stepped out, steadied the.38 with his left hand, and shot Sugarfoot Younger in the back of the head.

He cocked the gun again, and waited. But Sugarfoot had pitched forward and dropped and hadn’t moved.

He released the hammer and lowered the gun. His energy seemed to drain into the ground.

When the voice called to him from the path running along the fence, he jerked as if awoken from sleep. He thumbed back the hammer, raised the gun, almost fired.

‘Mr Warner?’

It was Craig. He came closer. He hadn’t seen the body yet.

‘Mr Warner? What’s going on? Are you all right?’

He looked concerned. He’d been running. Then he noticed the body spread face down in the grass, frowned, trying to make sense of it, and turned a shocked face to Wyatt.

Wyatt lowered his.38 again. Craig saw the movement, saw the gun. He started to back away, mouthing something, and Wyatt realised it was ‘No, please, no.’ With a last wrenching look, Craig turned and began to run.

It was a bursting, fearful run, as if he expected the punch of bullets in his back. But Wyatt had begun to stumble back through the trees to his own house. He was galvanised by Craig’s expression of natural horror. It told him he’d lost everything here. All he had in the world was a short head start and seventy-five thousand dollars and far to run.