Monday, June 27, 2016

Toboggan, Book #4 of the Janitors Series - Nick scores!



Today’s excerpt is from Toboggan, Book #4 of the nine-book Janitors Series.  Nick’s booby-trap works to perfection.  Enjoy and have a great day.

m.j.

 

After gorging themselves, Tony said, “I guess we better look for those two.”

Frank just nodded his head, grunted, and headed for the basement door.  After a thorough search there turned up nothing, they returned to the kitchen.  Tony opened the back door and looked out.  “There are two furrows in the snow out here.  One leads to Meat Hook’s barn, the other one to a tool shed.  Let’s try the barn first.”

“What ebber ya says.”

With Frank close behind him, Tony headed for the barn.  When he reached it, he pushed open the door.  As he did so, the piece of bottle cut the restraining string and the bag headed toward the door opening.  Tony saw it coming and dodged at the last split second, but he wasn’t quick enough.  The knife ripped into his side and he screamed.  When the bag swung back, the knife pulled free and Tony screamed again.  He sank to his knees as the swinging bag headed back toward him.  This time the bag stopped short of him.  “Frank, for God’s sake, help me.  I’ve been stabbed.”

Frank could see the snow turning red around Tony.  He grabbed his friend by the back of his coat and dragged him back toward the lodge.  When they reached the kitchen, Frank quickly helped Tony off with his clothes and gave him a dish towel to hold on the wound as he went in search of something to dress the wound with.  The best he could come up with was a bottle of vodka and a sheet from the second floor linen closet.  Having searched the two upper floors carefully, he already knew where the linen closet was, so he wasted little time returning with those two items.

When he poured the vodka on Tony, he ignored the loud cry of pain as he tore the sheet into strips.  He soon bound those around Tony, taking several turns.  Even though blood continued to seep through the sheet, he had effectively stemmed the flow of blood. 

Tony was beside himself with pain and anger.  After grunting thanks to Frank, he groaned, “Damn guy’s gonna die hard if I ever get my hands on him.”

“We gonna go affa dem?”

“No, Frank, we ain’t gonna go ‘affa’ them.  Where they gonna go in this weather?  Down to that joint we were at to freeze to death or starve to death?”

“Yeah, but wadda ‘bout afta da storm?”

“I’ll worry about after, after.  For now I gotta rest.  This side is killing me.”

“Yeah, Tony, ya west.  I’ll see to ya.”

“Thanks, Frank.”

 

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