Revenge

By Mike Miracle

His pregnant wife has just been killed. He knows who did it, and needs to correct this cosmic injustice.
The universe, however, has a different plan for Malcolm Fisk and Jerry Dance.
On a bitterly cold night, their confrontation will require both men to accept a new reality.
Both men will have to make a choice. Go back. Move on. Or let chance decide.
In The Next, everybody gets a choice.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mike Miracle
• Release date: Jul 14, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463657782

Mike Miracle

Mike Miracle is the caretaker of many different monsters. Some real, some not. He is an Author, College Professor, Beekeeper, Computer Programmer and Small Business Owner.

Book preview

Chapter 1

The thin cotton gloves Malcolm wore gave him little protection from the cold. He just needed them to keep the feeling in his fingers long enough to pull the trigger on his borrowed rifle when the time came. He raised up from a crouched position to peer out from behind his hiding spot. His knees protested at the length of time he’d been crouching; pops and cracks seemed loud in this quiet rural setting. He paused to take a couple of deep breaths of cold crisp air, he was a little dizzy from the blood pressure drop that occurred when he stood too quickly.

After his head cleared, he looked past his hiding spot and up the driveway—still no headlights from Jerry’s car. What am I doing here? he asked himself. Why did I think that this would be an answer to anything? I should just put this rifle back in the case and leave, he mumbled out loud to the rock in front of him. Cold, that didn’t come close to describing how he felt. One of the coldest nights on record this early in December, from what he heard on the news earlier. That was before it got dark. That was before he had made the decision to drive to Jerry Dance’s house.

He wasn’t sure if anyone had seen him. He had been careful up until this point, not sure if he’d have time to be careful after he did what he had come here to do. He couldn’t shake off the certainty that he was freezing to death. It was the time of the year that puts a chill deep in your bones after the sun goes down. As Malcolm Fisk sat in that frigid hiding place while hunting, the weight of the situation and circumstances grew heavy.

He wasn’t hunting a deer or any other beast that men usually lay in wait for in the cold of winter. He was waiting, watching, for what he considered to be the most reprehensible being on the planet. This bastard, this evil son of a bitch, that used to be his friend and business partner.

Malcolm glanced around while pulling his scarf closer to his neck and tightening his coat to shield him from the blistering wind. There was a koi pond at the end of the long, poorly lit driveway. The large piece of Italian stone he was crouched behind gave him cover from any approaching vehicle that came down the driveway. According to his former business partner, this particular stone had, fallen off the back of a truck.

Malcolm was no saint. He had acquired items in a similar manner. But right now, Malcolm didn’t give a damn about anything except getting rid of his ex-partner and friend.

When the headlights swept around the corner, Malcolm knew it was time to take his revenge. Thoughts from his semi-religious upbringing echoed in his mind that revenge was never a good idea. But he knew deep down in places people don’t talk about that he needed to do this. If not for himself, for the woman he once loved, for the life that they could have had.

*****

Preparing for this night wasn’t easy. He had used the last remaining favor from his old high school friend, Bill Marrow, to borrow a gun. The two met had met at Bill’s house for a few drinks in the basement bar. Malcolm had told Bill that he had a raccoon problem, and he could get the gun back to him the following weekend.

I just need to take care of this problem, once and for all, Malcolm said, trying to sound like a desperate homeowner.

Bill was concerned about the condition Malcolm was in, but Bill was also in his element now. He was an expert on three things: guns, video games, and growing hydroponic weed in his basement. But he also knew the dreadful year that Malcolm had experienced, and knowing his volatile state of mind, didn’t feel comfortable loaning him a hand gun. Finally, with a sigh, he pulled a bag out of his antique gun safe and carefully unzipped both sides.

There are some bullets in the side pocket with an extra magazine, Bill said, still concerned if he was doing the right thing.

This is a semi-automatic .22 and honestly, if you miss with the first shot, that coon will be gone. Unless of course he’s rabid, then he may charge you. In that case, empty the mag, throw the gun at him, and run like hell, Bill laughed heartily at that bit of advice.

Bill was a fat man with a raspy nasty smoker’s laugh, like glass shards bouncing off a chalkboard. Once he got through laughing and coughing from his hunting advice, he continued with the serious gun talk. This Ruger is fairly new, maybe two or three years old. He checked to make sure his friend was listening closely.

Malcolm could tell Bill was rolling now, boasting about his prize possessions.

Nine-round mag, you can pull back this lever to jack a round into the chamber, then replace the one in the mag. Back in the military, we called that cocked and locked.

Malcolm had no idea what the hell he was talking about but tried to pay attention to the loading and jacking part. He didn’t know a damn thing about guns. He just needed one that was easy to use, reliable, and would get the job done quickly. He also knew his fat buddy was in the military just long enough to make it through basic training and fail two drug tests. Bill was an asshole and probably sold drugs out of his basement. But Malcolm was out of options and desperate to get his revenge. He continued to look intrigued by Bill’s story, hoping it would end soon.

I put that Nikon scope on myself last year. It should still be sighted in at around one hundred yards, Bill said, as he zipped up the canvas case.

This is great Bill, Malcolm said, as he picked up the rifle case by the shoulder strap, trying to leave. I really appreciate it. I owe you for this, I’ll have it back to you in a week. Or after I’m able to get rid of my unwanted guest.

Chapter 2

When Malcolm saw the flair of the headlights, he felt a surge that tingled all the way down to his toes.

He shivered and watched the long, black Audi roll to a stop in its normal spot, fifteen feet from where he was perched behind that god-forsaken rock. He knew the Audi had pulled in nose first, which was perfect because he’d have an excellent shot at the driver when he got out. The adrenaline was kicking in, and he had to make some quick decisions if he wanted to pull this off.

Should he just unload the magazine into the car and hope that the .22 would find its mark behind the blackness of the tinted glass?

No, you must have patience, Malcolm muttered to himself.

He’d come too far and suffered too long at the hands of this asshole. He couldn’t let his desire to exact revenge cloud his judgment.

Judgment. The word caused a wicked smile to crease his frozen lips.

If I had better judgment, if I were a better judge of character, I wouldn’t be where I am, he said to the boulder in front of him.

Malcolm rose up from his crouch peeked over the top of the rock at the target before him. He heard the door lock disengage.

The interior lights of the Audi lit up the surrounding area, giving Malcolm