The Hanging of Hard Barnes

By Ryan King

Raised in the dark shadow of his twin brother Hardin, Lloyd Barnes is on a mission to save Hard from the hangman's noose. In the corrupt L.A. scene of the late 1920's, though, Lloyd's task looks hopeless as the California penal system makes ready for its last legal public execution. The Hanging of Hard Barnes is a compelling and humorous short novel.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kristin King
• Release date: Jan 27, 2018
• ISBN: 9781386442585

Ryan King

Ryan King is a career army officer with multiple combat tours who continues to serve in the military. He has lived, worked, and traveled throughout Europe, Africa, the Middle East, and Asia. King is married to fellow author Kristin King and they have four young and energetic boys who keep them constantly busy. Ryan King writes post-apocalyptic, dystopian, thriller, horror, and action short stories, short novels, and novels. He has also published the first book in his post-apocalyptic Land of Tomorrow series called Glimmer of Hope. Ryan King also writes under the pen name of Charles R. King for historical non-fiction. He has published 22 works, primarily covering the Punic Wars and late Roman Republican Era which was the focus of his graduate degree. Five of these works are currently on seven different bestseller lists. King is also writing a historical fiction series about Hannibal and the Second Punic War. The first book in that series debuts 2013.

Book preview

Lloyd knew something was wrong as soon as he saw his mother's face. His paw was drinking and angry, but that wasn't an indication of anything in particular. Duke Barnes' normal state of affairs was drunk and out of sorts, a condition that even thirteen years of recently ended prohibition couldn't impact. He didn't even look up when Lloyd walked in, just listened to the radio and drank.

His mother sat at the kitchen table smoking intently with a piece of paper in front of her. She was a tough woman; even so, she looked more fragile than Lloyd had ever seen her. The fact that she had gone to the neighbor's house to call and leave a message at work for him to come home had worried him. The vulnerability of this woman who he'd seen take beatings that would have killed most men terrified him.

Lloyd sat next to his mother and took her hand, glancing furtively into the living room at his father. What is it, Maw? he asked almost in a whisper.

She didn't even look at him when she spoke, just stared at the wall, How could you and your brother have turned out so different? He's pitted himself against the world since he was born, never able to give an inch. He'd take from everyone and not suffer any offense, either real or imaginary. I knew it would come to this one day.

Come to what? asked Lloyd, not sure if he wanted to know.

You were smart and able to make your way in this world. You got a good job, better 'n most, and haven't once been in any real trouble, said his mother, and Lloyd felt a flutter in his stomach when he thought he saw moistness in her eyes. He had never seen her cry.

She took a drag on her cigarette with a shaky hand. Lloyd suddenly noticed how old and tired she looked. Hardin never would listen to anyone, hardheaded clout! You two look alike, but I can't for the life of me figure out how you and Hardin are twins and yet so different.

What's happened, Maw? Tell me.

She simply handed him the piece of paper in front of her. Lloyd saw it was a Western Union telegram from the city of Los Angeles in far-off California. Last he had heard, Hardin was headed out west. It read To Barnes Family, Troy Michigan, Hardin Barnes to be tried for murder on 20 Aug., he asks for money for his defense, from LAPD, 30 Jul 1937.

Lloyd dropped the paper unsure what to think. He wanted to be shocked and surprised, but he wasn't, and neither was his mother. They didn't call him Hard for nothing. From the time he could walk, he'd fought anyone who was dumb enough to oblige him, usually resulting in him getting into some sort of trouble and, in the last few years, run out of whatever town he was in, usually after only a few weeks.

His mother mashed out her cigarette in an already overcrowded ashtray and went to the cabinet. She pulled an old tin off the shelf and reached inside, reverently extracting a wad of cash. She closed the door to the living room, Duke not even noticing, and sat back down beside him. Geraldine Barnes carefully smoothed the money out on the table in front of her, dwelling over the bills and patting them with fondness. It was a fortune in that day of soup lines and shanty towns.

Maw, I got a job. I don't need your money—

She held up her hand, hushing him. I've squirreled this money away a little at a time for an emergency, and I guess this is what we've got. Bring back what you can, but don't be concerned if you can't. She pressed the bills into his hand. Take the money and go do what you can for your brother.

Lloyd hesitated, knowing that taking off work could cost him his job and that could mean losing more than a man wanted to consider. They had even talked about making him a supervisor in the summer, and then he might be able to move out and get his own place. He looked into his mother's sad eyes and knew he couldn't refuse her, not in this.

He squeezed her hand and the money tight, and put the bills into his worn wallet. She patted his arm and got up to boil some water for tea.

The silence was heavy and uncomfortable. I'll bring him home, Maw. Don't worry, he said.

Geraldine Barnes never even paused. No. It's too expensive. Bury him in California.

*******

It took a week to get to Los Angeles on creaky trains that rocked the lucky few who could afford a ticket. There were lots of more transient passengers, furtive men who hid on the train's empty freight cars until chased away by the train inspectors at each stop. Before the train could then get back up to a respectable speed, men dashed from a wood line or from under the train platform and dove into the empty cars, sometimes the same men who had just been evicted. The inspectors would yell and curse at these men out of obligation. No one could afford to lose their jobs