“We are going to torture that asshole in a minute, and you are eating?” Cap again snaps.
Hot Rod laughs. “Oh, dear, does a little bitty blood make our Cap feel sickly?”
We all chuckle when Cap gives Hot Rod a nasty look, but it doesn’t stop me from responding. “Look, blood and gore don’t bother me anymore. If you can’t stomach it, Cap, I can do all the gory shit...”
“I never said I couldn’t do it. I’ve done as much as you have, so don’t even think that I can’t cut it. I can do whatever the fuck you can...”
Tracker has obviously had enough. “Cap! Shut the fuck up.”
The office quiets immediately, and you could hear a pin drop at this point. We all look at Pres to see what is going to be said or happen next. Before Pres can say anything, a light tap on the door grabs our attention. Rides who is next to the door opens it slightly before stepping out of the office and closing the door behind him.
The door opens and Rides steps back inside with a middle-aged man who looks like his world has ended. My gut churns at the sight of him, and I dread to hear what he has to say.
Rides speaks directly to Tracker. “Pres, this is Alan Foreman. He is the father of the young man who died after using the drug Maddog supplied and Byron was selling on campus. He has a request.”
Tracker looks at Alan Foreman and waits for him to speak.
“My son had a bright future. He was a good person and was going to do good things. This filth needs exterminating, and I’d like to do it. I don’t know if you have Maddog Hughes, and yes, I know who he is because I’ve done my homework. If you have him, I want in to finally rid the world of him,” Alan says all this with calmness but firmness. Anyone can see how much he wants the murderer of his son to die, and rightly so in my opinion. I want him dead, and he did nothing personal to me.
Tracker nods, showing understanding. “You know if we allow you to know or see anything, you are an accomplice, and if you talk afterwards, we’d come for you.”
“I can do the deed so none of you have to dirty your hands. I would never talk because I’m grateful to you for taking the scum off the streets,” Alan holds his hand out for Pres to shake, and he does so knowing this man wants closure. We can all see it.
Walking out to the shed, Alan alongside Cap, and both behind Tracker. The door opens and the two prospects step out. I give them the nod to go back to the clubhouse where they will be ready to eat, drink, and more than likely disappear to rest.
Maddog is tied to the chair, naked as the day he was born. He’s pissed all over the chair and it’s running down his legs. We all take a stand around the room. Rides picks up the hose andhoses the asshole down. He screeches and complains, but we don’t listen.
I look at Alan. “This is the brave bastard that supplies drugs. He pisses himself when he’s threatened. Stinks in here thanks to him, but hey, we have a drain under his chair so any piss and blood washes away easily.”
Thankfully, Alan cottons on to what I’m doing and responds. “They are always brave until they get caught, then they show they are cowards. I bet when you grabbed him, he hid behind his men.”
“Oh, he did that and tried to come out fighting, but you know his fighting skills are nonexistent, so he was an easy grab.” I look at Maddog who is doing his best not to speak. He is shaking quite a lot as the chair is rattling where it is bolted down.
Alan steps forward and looks Maddog right in the eye. “I’m a father who has lost his son. A son who is fifty times more worthy of breathing than you are but is dead thanks to you. I’m here to see you finished, and I’ll piss on your grave when you are dead.”
“Oh, there won’t be a grave, Alan.” Pres states calmly. “We have an acid pit, so we’ll chuck his nasty carcass in that, and he’ll be gone in no time.”
“No, you can’t do that. I can pay you…” Rides walks over to Maddog and punches him so hard his head snaps around and he loses consciousness.
“Impressive,” Alan says as he steps forward and closer to Maddog. “Do we really want his blood all over us? Do we want to waste our lives on a piece of shit that shouldn’t even be breathing?”
Pres looks around the room for our reactions. I give him a shrug before responding. “Well, I’ve better things I could be doing, and we have church after lunch, Pres.”
Alan holds his hand out to Tracker who pauses for a moment before reaching out his hand to Cap. Cap places a gun in Tracker's hand, one that we know will have nothing identifiable on it and will also be in the acid pit. Tracker gives his hard President look towards Alan, but Alan remains calm, waiting for the weapon to be handed to him.
Maddog is coming around, making small noises, but he’s not fully aware of what is happening. He doesn’t get to know either because Alan places the weapon directly over Maddog’s forehead and pulls the trigger.
“I hate it when brains get splattered,” Hot Rod comments in a bored tone, and we all give him a nod of agreement. It is a nasty thing when you get the starburst splatter.
“Thank you,” Alan states calmly, and we can all hear how sincere he is. “I can sleep at night knowing that piece of shit is finally done.”
As we walk back into the common room Keys is heading towards the kitchen. “Everything good, Pres?”
“Yeah, it’s done,” Pres replies.
“It didn’t take you long. Did he have a health issue to start with?” Keys is genuinely asking.
“Nah, he met Alan,” Pres chuckles and continues walking.