Bullet Through Your Face (improved format) (32 page)

But Hays stopped just then, and began to slow down. “Dang,
Chief, looks like I’se’ll have ta tell ya later ‘cos we’se here.”
Kinion thanked the Lord for that, and so did Kinion’s breadbasket.
Shore enough, Hays had just pulled into the parkin’ lot’a VWF Post
3063, and he were correct in what he’d previously related: all the
lights were out: the buildin’, the lot, even the big VFW sign out front.
But—
VVVVVROOM!
The sound jolted ‘em, and suddenly there were a bunch’a dust
fillin’ up the lot, and then the Chief jumped out the car’n looked
behind him, he saw—
“You gotta be shittin’ me!”
—a great big long bus roarin’ away, and before it roared away
completely, Chief Kinion could see the stenciled letters on the back
of it, letters which read—
“State Health Department!” Hays jumped out and read out loud.
“Those fuckers
again?
”
Kinion and Hays stood in the dust. The bus, now, was long gone
down the road. The two men approached the VFW hall, and at once
Hays noticed something.
“Looky, Chief. See that?”
“See what?” Kinion answered.
Hays pointed to the front winders of the hall—
No glass,
the Chief realized.
“No glass, see that, boss. All them winders’ve been busted from
the outside in, just like Doc Willis’ place.”
“Well ain’t this just a dandy kick in the ass!” the Chief complained.
“Yeah, and there goes a dandier one . . .”
At the other end of the darkened lot,
another
vehicle was pullin’
out and stompin’ off like real fast: Captain Majora’s government sedan.
“Still think she’s legit, boss?” Hays goaded. “Second time today she done beat us to our own calls.”
The
Chief stroked his gibbous chin. Shore, it was a great big heap of
strange that seemed to be pilin’ up ‘round the luscious Captain Majora,
but—
“Now wait a mintue, Hays, only reason she got out here before we did is
‘cos we was delayed on account of, uh, well . . .”
“On account’a you wanted to peep in her winder whiles she were nekit
so’s ya could gander that tight l’il butt’n red gash on her—”
“I was doin’no such thang, I’se already tolt ya!” Kinion hollered, “I
was merely investergatin’ a suspicious situation!”
“Well, whatever, boss, and you can waste the rest of the little time
you got tryin’ ta ‘splain yerself, or you can git on after her, see
where she goes.”
“Uh, what?”
“Foller the dirty, lyin’ bitch in the town car. You still got time ta catch up.”
Kinion considered this suggestion and—dang—it seemed like a purdy good one. Then he snapped to, lumbered toward the car.
“Come on, Hays, git in!”
Hays threw Kinion the keys. “You go on yerself, boss. See, I gots some investergatin’ of my own ta do back at the station.”
Kinion looked back, duped. “Well, how the hail are ya gonna git back to the station without a car?”
Hays turned up a subtle smile. “Leave it ta me, Chief, and you best git rollin’ n’less ya wanna lose her.”
Hays was right—there weren’t no time ta argue. So’s he jumped on in the
Luntville patrol car and spun wheels outa that VFW lot fast as if he
were persuin’ a moonshine run, follerin’ the same direction that Majora
had left.
And when the Chief were well on his way, PFC Micah whipped out his set’a lockpicks and begun ta look for a car ta steal . . .

As Chief Kinion drove with the pedal to
the metal, cruisin’ a mite
quick down Old Harley Road, he did n’fact wonder what Hays had
on his mind but he were quite a bit more intensely concerned about
what Majora might be up to. Not only was it funny ‘bout her Colt
.45 not bein’ in the Army inventory no more, but it were even more
so funny ‘bout how she coulda got noterfied ‘bout whatever went
on back at the VFW Post. She couldn’t possibly have heard it on a
police scanner as she’d said she had earlier ‘bout the County
WatchHouse fer Boys ‘cos the Chief seed fer hisself when he was
ganderin’
her bare ass that she didn’t have no such scanner in her room, and nor
had she picked up a phone, and nor had her phone rang, so...
How
in the hail did she know ta come out to the VFW Post and call them
dang State Health Department folks again?

It weren’t too long, however, before the Chief caught a glimpse
of her tail lights up ahead, and so’s he let off the speed a tad. He didn’t
wanna catch her, he just wanted ta see what she were up to now,
and she shore as heck weren’t goin’ back ta her motel room ‘cos
this were the blammed oppersit direction. So he just set ta follerin’
her, discretely like so’s she wouldn’t suspect she were indeed bein’
follered. And in the meantimes, he got hisself an idea...

See,
the Chief weren’t as dumb as some would think, and he knowed full well
that any emergency transport call would be logged with State MAC
computer no matter if it were local, county, or state, and he also
knowed that the county-band dispatcher had access to
that infermation, and what he knowed thirdly was that any medical 
transport respondered to by the State Health Department would
have  a status-tag on that there log!
“I need arrival’n desternation status of the State Health Department’s
response to the Luntville VFW Post 3063, please,” he said into the mic.
“Standby, Two-Zero-Eight.”
Over the line, the Chief heard the dispatcher tappin’ them computer keys. But then there came a pause, and she got back:
“Two-Zero-Eight, the State MAC log reports no transport dispatch of any Health Department vehicles to that location.”
The fuck?
“Well I just seen ‘em myself, leavin’ the post not
five minutes ago!” Kinion complained to his radio. “What about earlier
today? Check fer a State Health Department dispatch to the County
Watch-House fer Boys out on Mount Airy Road.”
More static, more keys tappin’, then: “Sorry, Two-Zero-Eight, State
Health Department reports no dispatches of any of their vehicles today,
not to the locations you mentioned, and not anywhere.”
At first the Chief was fixin’ to pitch a fit on account he’d seen
these vehicle with his own eyes both times but then . . .
Hmmm,
he thought. “Thank you kindly,” he said in the mic. “I must’a had me some faulty infermation. Two-Zero-Eight out.”
Yes, sir, that heap’a strange was just gettin’ higher’n higher it was.
Not just from what the dispatcher had just tolt him, but from what he
noticed this here instant.
See, way up on ahead’a him, he could still see Majora’s tail lights on
that government sedan, and what that sedan done next, see, was it turnt
left offa Old Harley Road and right smack-dab onto County Road 3, and
if there was one thang Chief Kinion knowed was that there weren’t
nothin’at all on County Road 3 but one single house . . .
Doc’n Jeanne Willis’ house.

It were the White Horse Motel.

Yeah, he knowed, all right, he knowed the Chief—fine man that
he was—weren’t seein’ thangs quite as clearly as he should be on
account he had eyes fer that red-hairt cum-trap Majora. Funny what
pussy could do to a fella, ‘specially a fella like the Chief since he
problee ain’t had hisself a good lay since back before we put fellas
up on the moon. But Hays knew a lyin’ fur-pie when he saw one,
and that’s just what Majora was. Shore, she was a looker, and Hays
wouldn’t mind blowin’ a big dick-loogie right up any or all’a her
holes ‘cos that’s all gals were foremost: 3-holes for fellas ta put their
peters in’n have a good come. A looker, yeah, but Hays weren’t
nearly so as impressed as the Chief was. A little too prim’n proper
she seemed, and a little too sqweaky clean. What a gal like that
really
needed was to first have her starch broke and git dirtied up some the
ways women should be.
Yes sir, git ten good, hard fellas together
and treat her to a All-Night Pool-Table Special. Ooo-eee, that’d
break her down’n git the sass out of her a right quick. Lay her smart
ass down and put a fuckin’ on her from dusk till dawn, put so much
cum in her she wouldn’t be able to git no more in, and she’d shorely be grateful fer it after.
See, what Hays—in his incontrovertible
experience—reasoned was that the more ya treated a gal like a lowdown
dog-dirty whore, the more they liked it ‘cos it fulfilled some
inner need they alls had to be treated like spunk-drains. Personally,
Hays couldn’t figger it fer the life’a him, but after treatin’ well
over
700 gals like just that, he were posertively convinced. That’s right—
no lie—n’fact the PFC’s tally were done up to ‘zactly 721—that’s
721 different gals
he’d had his trouser-meat in, and a fair share’a
them he fucked more times than he could count! And it weren’t no
lie either that well over a hunnert of ‘em he fucked the dogshit outa
‘fore he was 16 years of age! Shee-it, when Micah Hays were but
7 years old, he was ballin’ the stuffin’ out of his babysitters, and he
shore as shit were ass-fuckin’ by 10. In junior high school he wasn’t
just fuckin’ all them l’il 7th-grade gals but he was also fuckin’ the
daylights outa bunch’a his teachers. Shee-it, he remembert one time
when he weren’t but 13’n didn’t even have all his dick hair yet and
though he could shore as shit get wood’n come, his nuts weren’t yet
makin’ no spunk, but anyway, he remembert this one big chunky
science teacher he had named Mrs. Christian who had like kind of
a dumpy bod but a primo set’a tits and one day Micah was sittin’ in
class lookin’ at those big rib-melons and thinkin’ how great it’d be
ta see ‘em in the buff and—shore ‘nuff!—he popped hisself a huge
boner right there in his pants and since he were sittin’ in the front
row, see, Mrs. Christian got a good look at it, no doubt thinkin’ to
herself:
What in tarnations? That there 13-year-old little boy’s got
a dick that’s three-times bigger than my husbands!
so ‘acorse she
asked Micah to stay after class and let’s just say he put more than
his pencil in her school box. Wound up fuckin’ that bitch coupla
times a week till he got on to high school. Word travels fast, see, and
when a fella’s hung like Micah Hays (not ta mention when a fella’s
so good a lover’n can git a gal’s pussy off so fine), it might as well’a
been broadcast over the blammed intercom. By 9th grade, n’fact, he
was not only fuckin’ a coupla different girls ever week but more’n
a handful’a teachers, like Miss Brill—she were one’a the gal phys.
ed. teachers, and she was skinny’n tall and didn’t have hardly no tits
on her at all but that didn’t matter to Micah Hays, no sir—she might
not’a had no tits but he shore as hail knew she had a beaver ‘tween her
legs, but anyways one day outa the blue Micah were on his way out
to little league practice but Miss Brill just up’n grabbed him’n hauled
him back into her little office’n locked the door. See, she’d heard all
about how good Micah Hays was, and she shore’s shit wanted in
on some’a
that
action herself so she just hauls off her sweat pants’n
hauls Micah’s pants down’n a’corse he’s hard already so’s then she
eyeballs it’n about shrieks, sayin’ “Good Gawd, Micah Hays, that
is the biggest tallywacker I ever done seen!” (and keep in mind, he
were still just a kid back then!) so Micah, bein’ the dillergent student
he was’n always wantin’to exceed the expectations’a his teachers, he
got to layin’ some serious dick on Miss Brill humpin’ her hard’n fast
just like women wanted, and she just kept squealin’“Harder, Micah!
Harder!” so harder it was till it got to the point that she might as
well’a had a jackhammer up her twat, and, shee-it, this scrawny bitch
just couldn’t git enough so’s she pulls her knees back to her ears and
just keeps shriekin’“Harder!” but then somethin’happened, see, and
at the time, bein’ so young’n all, Micah couldn’t quite reckon what
it was but he heard a wet poppin’ noise and alls of a sudden Miss
Brill’s shrieks of whore-heaven bliss turnt inta screams and all this
blood starts pourin’ out her snatch like tappin’ a keg’a cherry wine
and, well, ta make a long story short what happened was that Micah
had fucked this woman so hard he transectered her blammed cervix,
he did! and she wound up havin’ ta go to the harspital! He felt a mite
guilty ‘bout it at first—
Holy shee-it!
he’d thought.
I done busted Miss
Brill’s hole!
—but, hail, he was only givin’ her what she were askin’
fer, right? So it weren’t his fault, not really, and since he popped her
cunt
before
he came hisself, he didn’t feel guilty neither ‘bout jackin’
it off the rest’a the way. So’s, anyway, that there is the story’a the
very first poon ta be broke wide open by Micah Hays, but little did
he know back then that there’d be many more ta foller.