Роберт Паркер - Robert B. Parker's Revelation

“Fucking truth. I thought, no way could it be you,” Dave said. “But then, I watched you... It’s you.”

“Who do you think I am?”

“What?”

“Who?”

“What? It’s you, Gus. Look... I seen you, last night, and I... I...”

“You what?”

“Thought you was dead, Gus, I swear...”

“Thought wrong.”

“I can’t believe it... What the...?” Dave said. “What the hell you doing here, Gus?”

“I could ask you the same thing, but that would be wasted verbiage on my part,” Driggs said. “I know damn good and well what you are doing here.”

“Don’t... Don’t hurt me, Gus, please...” Dave said.

“Hurt you? Now, why would I want to hurt you?”

“You know I was not the one.”

“The one? What do you mean, ‘the one’?”

Dave just stared at him, shaking his head hard from side to side.

“I was not the one that shot you.”

“No?”

“I swear to God. You have to believe me.”

“Why?”

“It’s the truth.”

“You’ve never told the truth in your life, Uncle Dave, so why do you think I have to believe you now?”

“He done it. It was him...”

“Don’t need to tell me what I know.”

“I’m not... I mean...”

“You mean? You mean nothing, absolutely nothing. And here, I’m thinking you are the law looking on me.”

“Law? No. Hell. I’m no law.”

“You don’t need to point that out, either, Uncle Dave. Still kissing ass. You have not so much as even been invited to sit and eat lunch with him, have you?”

Dave just stared at him.

“No, I wouldn’t think so,” Driggs said. “You’re still leveraging for him. That’s what you are doing. Making the little people like you pay to stay? Threatening to take over businesses. Or are you just polishing his boots? Getting young pussy for him? Sucking his dick when he wants you to?”

“What... what do you want from me...?”

Driggs shook his head.

“Nothing.”

Dave looked relieved, but then Driggs put pressure on the board he held across Uncle Dave’s throat. Uncle Dave’s eyes bulged as he stared at Driggs.

“This will be good for you, Uncle Dave,” Driggs said. “It will be the best thing that has ever happened in your lifetime.”

Uncle Dave tried to pull the board from his throat, but there was no stopping the force of Augustus Noble Driggs, not when he had his mind set, and his mind was — dead set.

The darkness of the clouds was not yet upon us, but we could feel the pressure. Virgil and I watched the store for a long moment before we made any move. In the corrals there were a handful of mules. In another pen there were some goats and pigs. Toward the back of the property was a long milk barn with a few cows behind the barn, but there was no one moving about.

When we finally walked out of the thickets and up to the store we found the scene was nothing more than another gruesome field of carnage left by Degraw. He killed three men. The older tall fella we cut down who had been strung up and hanging from the ridge beam had also been shot and castrated. And two other men, younger Negro fellas we found dead off the side of the porch. Both men had gunshot wounds to the head.

When we walked out the back door we saw another person. A skinny young Negro fella, he was standing in knee-high grass in front of the milk shed. He appeared to be looking directly toward us, but something seemed off about the way he was just standing there, staring at us. The milk shed backed up to a stand of hackberry trees that were currently covered with an anxious murder of crows. They were cawing and cackling as if they were a chorus of angry mourners.

The young man stood perfectly still, looking at us, and then he fell face-first and disappeared into the high grass in front of him.

When we got to him we discovered he had a long, bone-handled knife sticking out of his back. The wound had left a trail of blood that had traveled all the way down his backside to the lower portion of his legs. His face was turned to the side and he was trying to look up at us with his large eyes.

“Help me,” he said.

He was a delicate and gentle-looking fella with smooth skin and almost feminine features.

I got on my knees next to him and leaned down, looking at him.

“We are here for you,” I said.

He just looked at me with terrified, shifting eyes that were full of tears.

“Just be very still,” I said. “Close your eyes.”

He was beyond frightened and his eyes started moving nervously, but he did as I instructed and closed his eyes. I looked up at Virgil, then to the knife in the young man’s back. I held out my hand, then got a hold of the knife, pulled it from his back, and when I did the young man screamed out in pain as his eyes bolted open.

Virgil retrieved a wheelbarrow that was leaning up against the milk shed.

“We are gonna get you out of the grass and inside the store,” Virgil said.

“You just do your very best to breathe,” I said. “And though I know it’s hard, just try to remain as calm as you can... Okay?”

He bit his lip and nodded.

Virgil looked to me. We got on each side of the young man, lifted him out of the grass and into the bed of the wheelbarrow. Then I positioned myself between the handles, lifted the wheelbarrow, and swiftly moved him toward the store.

Once we had him inside we placed him on his stomach across a table that we covered with a blanket. I cut open his shirt and saw that he had been stabbed twice. We scoured the store for medicinal supplies, coming up with alcohol and bandages, but he was bleeding badly and for now all we could do was clean and keep pressure on the wound.

Virgil leaned down and looked at him closely.

“We are gonna do what we can to get you outta here,” Virgil said. “But you just need to stay strong.”

The young man nodded.

“Okay,” he said. “Okay...”

“How long ago did this happen?” Virgil said.

He shook his head a little.

“Two, three hours, maybe.”

“How many of you were here at the store?” Virgil said.

“Mr. Gibson, he own the place, and my papa he worked for him, my cousin, too.”

“That it?” Virgil said. “That is all the folks that were here?”

“Yes sir,” he said. “But no more, they... they been killed.”

He started crying.

I looked to Virgil. He followed my look to the blood that was continuing to flow from the wound. I shook my head and looked back to Virgil.

“Maybe it will help if we sit him up,” I said.

Virgil nodded.

“We are gonna have you sit up here, okay,” I said.

He nodded and Virgil helped me turn the young man to his side and sit up.

“Stay strong,” Virgil said.

The young man nodded as he stared at Virgil.

“What is your name, son?” Virgil said.

“Gracie,” he said.

“Well, Gracie,” Virgil said. “We are gonna do everything we can to help you here, young man.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Then he just looked at Virgil and me and shook his head and said, “Why this happen?”

“No reason,” Virgil said.

“Crazy man just came in here. He told my daddy and my cousin to hang Mr. Gibson or he’d have Mr. Gibson hang them.”

Virgil looked to me but did not say anything.

“That’s what happened?” I said.

“No, he shot my daddy and cousin, just shot them in the head, then shot Mr. Gibson in the stomach. Then he strung up Mr. Gibson while he was alive. Then he cut off his... privates.”