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inane annals
The Pornographers, pt.3
by Mark Suder Massey | 28 Oct 2007, 10:14

In my peripheral vision I saw Purcell bolt up and flick his hand gracefully toward Luis. Blinking, his mouth opening and closing, Luis stumbled back and sat, roughly, on a bar stool. The gun fell from his hand, clattering on the floor.

And then Purcell was there, swiping the gun from the ground and dancing back three steps. Purcell aimed at Luis. On his barstool Luis slowly raised his right hand to the side of his head.

"Don't," Purcell said, his voice calm. "Moving it will probably kill you."

Luis blinked repeatedly, lowering his arm.

Purcell smiled, wiping the blood from his chin and mouth.

"Stand up," Purcell said to me, still looking at Luis.

I stood up.

"Now walk around to Luis's right side," Purcell said. "Tell me how deep the dart is."

Swallowing, I walked over to Luis. A dart was lodged in Luis's right temple, blood streaming down his cheek. He was blinking very fast.

"Up to the brim," I said.

"Good," Purcell said. "Now get a sharp knife and I'll cut you loose."

I heard another slap, then a whimper, from the restroom.

I ran behind the bar, found a paring knife, and ran back to Purcell. As I handed him the paring knife he nodded and switched the gun to his left hand. I turned around, raising my wrists. Never lowering the gun, Purcell glanced from me to Luis as he sawed the tie from one wrist. I brought my hands around to the front of my body.

"No time to saw off the others," Purcell said.

I nodded.

"Take the gun," Purcell said. "Stand where I'm standing, and never look anywhere but at Luis. If he does anything coherent, shoot him until the clip's empty."

"Wait," I said. "What if that Cap guy has a weapon?"

Purcell smiled. "He does. I saw at least one knife under his coat."

"Don't you want the gun?" I said.

Purcell shook his head. "In close quarters a gun is not your friend."

Nodding, I took the gun from Purcell and pointed it at Luis.

Purcell shrugged his coat off and laid it on the jukebox. Without his coat he looked much thinner. Sweat, forming a V, reached from his neck to his lower back. He went to the bar, leaned over, and grabbed a paddle-shaped whiskey bottle. Then, knife in one hand and bottle in the other, Purcell walked quickly to the women's restroom. Just outside the restroom Purcell stopped and placed the whiskey bottle on top of the payphone. Then he reached for the door handle.

As Purcell yanked the door open Samantha shrieked and Cap bellowed something. From where I stood I couldn't see into the women's restroom, just the door. I heard a grunt, then something metallic bouncing to the floor. A second later Purcell and Cap burst out of the restroom, grappling with the each other. Purcell had his back to me and I saw the knife in his shoulder, saw the blood spreading across his sleeve. Cap shoved Purcell against the doorframe. As Purcell slid to the ground I saw Cap hopping around from behind him. Cap's shirt was untucked, his cock bobbing, his pants around his ankles. Cap pulled his pants up, zipping then buttoning them. Then, running toward me, Cap pulled a hunting knife from inside his jacket.

I glanced at Luis, who was blinking at me with his mouth open. I didn't know what to do and my hands were shaking.

Looking back toward Cap, I saw Purcell struggling from the ground and grabbing the whiskey bottle from the payphone. Cap was almost on me when suddenly his feet gave out and he torpedoed forward, the whiskey bottle ricocheting wildly off his skull and shattering into the front window. Arms spread, legs fluttering, Cap slid face-first on his belly as the knife spun out of his hand. His head was about eight feet from my shoe, broken glass everywhere.

All at once Luis stood up and ran for the knife. But, bending over, Luis started convulsing and crumpled to the floor. He lay there, twitching, his legs bicycling limply. I picked up the knife with my free hand.

When I looked back at Cap, Purcell was already there, crouched down with a hunting knife glistening six inches from Cap's neck. Purcell's entire left shoulder was stained with blood but the knife was no longer there. Cap wasn't moving.

Samantha staggered out of the bathroom, fully dressed, a large wet patch on the front of her tank top. As Samantha walked by Cap she stomped on his head, stumbling for balance with her hands behind her back. She turned and faced me, her eyes bloodshot, mascara down her cheeks.

"Be careful," Purcell said to her. "Don't slip on that broken glass."

Samantha spit on Cap's hair.

"How's Luis?" Purcell said.

"I think he's dying," I said. "But I've got the gun on him."

Purcell coughed a few times, then looked at Samantha. "Go get the knife I dropped," Purcell said softly, moving the hunting knife closer to Cap's throat.

Samantha walked back the bathroom, disappeared inside, and returned ten seconds later with the paring knife held behind her back.

"Turn around," Purcell said. "I'll cut you loose."

Once he'd done it, Samantha turned back around, facing me, and started massaging her wrists. Purcell tossed the paring knife over the bar and it landed out of sight.

Purcell slowly stood up, the blood stain now reaching his elbow. Leaning on the wall, coughing, he looked very sweaty and very pale.

"I need your help," Purcell said to Samantha. "Wash your hands. Thoroughly. Then get a clean towel and some duct tape if you have it."

Samantha nodded and ran into the kitchen. While she was gone Purcell slowly unbuttoned his shirt and shrugged it off. His ribs were showing.

Just then Cap started moaning and shuddering on the ground. Purcell kicked him in the jaw and he went still.

A minute later Samantha returned with two towels and a roll of duct tape.

"Wrap one towel tight around the wound," Purcell said. "Then duct tape the towel in place, wrapping it twice. Then do the same thing with the second towel."

"OK," she said.

Samantha worked fast, her jaw clenched. Two minutes later Purcell was bandaged, the towels forming an inch-and-a-half shoulder pad.

Purcell picked his bloody shirt from the ground and walked over to the pinball machine a few feet away from me. After putting on his trench coat Purcell wadded the shirt into one of its pockets.

"I'll take over from here," Purcell said to me.

Swallowing, I handed him the gun.

Purcell leaned against the pinball machine, coughing. He held the gun in his right hand, his elbow at his hip. "I can guarantee these two men have done this before," he said.

"Are you going to call the cops?" Samantha said.

"You can," Purcell said. "Or you can let me speed up the judicial process."

"Fucking right on," Samantha said.

"Wait," I said to Purcell. "What if you're wrong?"

Purcell looked at me, then at Samantha.

"Let's settle this," Samantha said, heading toward the women's restroom.

Fifteen seconds later Samantha walked out of the restroom carrying the camera with both hands. Watching the screen, walking very slowly, Samantha reached up to cover her mouth. Suddenly she doubled over and vomited, the camera clattering to the ground.

Purcell looked at Samantha.

She stumbled to the front door, resting her forehead on it, her eyes closed. Samantha was shaking her head. Under the overhead light I glimpsed a thin line of blood on one side of her throat.

Purcell walked over to Samantha.

"It's over," Purcell said softly. "You're safe now."

"It's not me," Samantha said. "I saw what he did to the other girl."

"Nothing good will come thinking about it," Purcell said. "Forget what you just saw."

"I'll never be able to," she said, suddenly crying.

Purcell nodded a few times.

"You have to kill them," Samantha said.

I was leaning against the pinball machine, watching Luis and Cap groan and twitch on the floor. Purcell walked up and stood beside me. A few seconds later Samantha, looking dazed, walked over to us.

"I'm asking both of you to leave," Purcell said. "Unlock that door and wait outside. You don't want this on your conscience, believe me."

After a while Samantha shook her head. "No. I'm staying."

Purcell turned and looked at me. "What about you?"

"I don't know," I said, looking down. "This is unreal. I don't want to see it and I don't want to think about it."

Purcell looked at Samantha. "It's not too late. Go outside with him."

"I want to see," she said, crossing her arms.

Purcell shrugged. "You'll regret it."

I went to the backroom, got the keys, walked back and unlocked the front door. Then, stepping around broken glass, I walked outside and shut the door.

For five seconds there was only silence. Then I heard two gunshots, less than a second apart.

I looked through the bar's broken front window and saw Purcell crouched down and going through Luis's pockets. Samantha, sitting on the ground by the pinball machine, was covering her face with both hands and shaking. After a few seconds Purcell stood up, coughed, and walked over to Cap's body. I watched him go through Cap's wallet and pull out a wad of cash.

Once he'd stood up Purcell put the money in his pants pocket and pulled the gun out of his trench coat pocket. Then, reaching behind his back, Purcell tucked the gun into his waistband. He smoothed out his trench coat. Coughing slightly, Purcell walked over to Samantha.

"You're going to be OK," Purcell said to her.

Samantha started crying harder. "You killed them. Oh my God. Oh my God."

Purcell nodded a few times.

Samantha pulled her knees up to her chest. "Get away from me. Oh God, just get away from me."

Purcell turned around. Five seconds later he pushed open the front door and stood beside me.

"Watch over her," Purcell said, buttoning his trench coat. "Be a brother to her."

I nodded. "I will."

He stepped off the sidewalk and into the parking lot, walking toward a motorcycle.

"Are you really dying?" I called out.

Purcell turned around, smiling with his lips closed. "We're all dying," he said, throwing his leg over the motorcycle. "I'm just dying a little faster."

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