Part 24:
Just
Let Me Go
Howie’s sight faded in and
out, as he tried to make out who the figure was hovering above him, speaking
his name.
“Are you Howie Dorough?” Dan’s fingers fumbled on the cell phone keypad
for the familiar digits of the police station, as he tried to keep Howie awake.
“Hey, stay with me, buddy.”
Howie’s body began to shake.
Jesus, he was so cold.
“Hello,” a familiar voice
grumbled other end of the line.
“Sergeant Cox, is that
you?” Dan yelled the words into the phone, adrenaline racing through his veins.
“Who the fuck is this?” Cox tipped back the last gulp of coffee,
listening intently to the man on the other end of the line.
“Howie, Howie, stay with
me.” Dan leaned down into Howie’s face,
slapping his cheeks with his free hand. “Sergeant, it’s Dan Fortis-”
“Fortis, I thought I told
you, I don’t have anything to say to scum reporters like you. I-”
“I found Howie Dorough.” Despite the short-cropped hair, weight loss,
and pale gray complexion, Dan was one hundred percent positive that the man
before him was Howie Dorough.
“Is this some sort of a
joke, Fortis?”
“No, this isn’t some
fucking joke, Cox.” Dan continued
slapping Howie’s cheeks, his eyes rolling back into his head before trying to
re-focus again.
“Nick…” Howie was shaking his head back and forth as
he grabbed for the front of Dan’s shirt.
“What? What did you say?” Dan held the phone away from his ear, leaning
in to better hear what Howie was trying to say, as he pulled the frail young
man into his lap.
“Nick…. he’s-” Howie stopped choking on his words. “He’s going… to… to kill Nick.” Pausing, Howie’s body stiffened before
falling limp in Dan’s arms.
“Cox, get me a fucking
ambulance to the burned-out house on Demont and Rush Street, and you get your
ass over to the hospital.”
“Why should I believe
anything you have to say, Fortis?”
“Because as we speak, the
guy who killed Brian Littrell is on his way to the hospital to finish Nick
Carter off.”
Tossing the phone to the
floor, Dan lay Howie down and quickly began administering CPR.
***
Taking a deep breath, Nick
slowly opened his eyes.
Had he been shot?
Looking down, he could see
that there was a light blood spatter on the sheets, as well as his forearms,
but as far as he could tell, he was in no pain.
Tossing back the sheet,
the gun still clutched tightly in his trembling hand, he looked at his chest,
arms, and legs. Everything appeared to
be intact and bullet-free.
Leaning forward, he peered
over the side of the bed.
“Shit.”
He saw the blood first,
dark and shiny as it spread slowly across the white tiled floor. And then he saw Mo’s crumpled body lying on
the floor at the foot of his bed, still holding his gun in his right hand.
“I killed him,” Nick
whispered, tears pooling in his eyes. “I
fucking killed him.”
Closing his eyes, a
shudder ran through his body as he tried to catch his breath. “Brian… what do I do now?” Shaking his head back and forth, he half-expected
Brian to come to him in some sort of vision and show him the way out of the
mess his life had become.
But there was nothing.
He was all alone.
Looking around the room,
Nick knew he had done what he needed to do. He’d taken the life of the man who had taken
the life of his best friend.
And now it was time for
him to join Brian on the other side.
Closing his eyes, he
raised the gun slowly to his head, pressing the gun into his right temple, just
as the door to the room burst open, and Kevin appeared in the doorway.
“Nick!” Kevin shouted,
making his way into the room, a frantic look in his eyes. “Nick, what are you doing?” Stopping as the door closed behind him, Kevin
surveyed the grisly scene before him. The security guard’s body on the floor,
covered in blood, and Nick lying in the hospital bed, a gun pointed to his own head.
“Ha.” Nick let out a loud laugh at the irony of the
moment. “Now you decide to come and see
me? You got lousy timing, Kev.” Chewing nervously on his bottom lip, Nick
opened his eyes, digging the gun hard into his temple.
“What happened, Nick? Are you okay?
Did he hurt you?” Kevin asked in a soft, low voice.
“I killed him.” Nick pointed with his free hand to Mo’s body
on the ground. “I killed that motherfucker,
and now I’m going to end this nightmare once and for all… for me, for you, for
everybody.”
Mo’s eyes fluttered
slightly as he watched the scene playing out before him.
He knew that he had been
shot; the searing pain in his right arm was enough to make him want to puke. Son of a bitch, he’d never expected that
miserable little shit to actually pull the trigger. So he had not been prepared when the bullet
from Nick’s gun tore into his right arm, jerking his hand at the precise moment
he pulled the trigger on his own gun, the bullet plowing into the wall behind
Nick’s head, missing him completely, before Mo fell to the ground.
“Jesus, Nick.” Kevin raked his hands over and over through
his hair, his eyes glued to the gun at Nick’s temple. “You don’t want to die, too.”
“Don’t I?” Nick raised his eyebrows in amusement, a smile
spreading across his face.
“Nick, please.” Kevin held out his hand, gesturing for the gun.
“Give me the gun.”
“Why, so you can shoot me
yourself? No fucking way. I earned this privilege, not you, Kev.”
“I don’t want to shoot you,
Nick. I want to help you.”
“You wanted me dead, Kevin,
so I’m giving you your wish.”
“Jesus, Nick.” Kevin took a step forward. “Don’t do this. Is this really the way you want it all to
end?” Kevin took another step forward,
reaching a hand out to Nick, both men oblivious to Mo moving on the floor below.
“Yes.” Tears pooled in Nick’s eyes as he nodded his
head, a desperate look on his face. “Yes,
Kevin, this is how I want it all to end. Please just let me go.”
“Nick-”
“Please, Kevin, please,” Nick
pleaded. “Let me go.”
Slowly sitting up, Mo
readjusted the gun in his slick, bloody hands, just as Nick’s finger began to
depress the trigger of the gun pointed at his own head.
“Surprise, boys,” Mo
whispered.
“NO!” Lunging forward, Kevin grabbed the gun from
Nick’s hand, as he turned and began firing…
BAM!
BAM!
BAM!
BAM!
BAM!
BAM!
Pulling the trigger over
and over, Kevin emptied the bullets, one by one, into Mo’s body, until there
was nothing left but the hollow clicking of the trigger pushing on the empty
chambers in the clip of the gun.
Stumbling backwards, Kevin
dropped the gun to the floor, just as Sergeant Cox and his men burst through
the door.
***
