Monday, October 6, 2014

"Royce" Part 3

Click here for previous "Royce."

"You are getting fat, Anne-Marie" Albany said. He sat with Royce on the side of the booth that faced the window. Since coming into power Albany became increasingly paranoid. "You should do something about that."

"I don't care about my weight", she said.

"Obviously" he replied.

"And stop calling me 'Anne-Marie.' 'Anne' will do just fine" she said as she shoveled a mouthful of pasta down her throat.

"Disgusting" Albany muttered to himself. "You can at least pretend you were not raised by wolves. Use a napkin. Royce, could you hand me a fork?" Royce did not even look towards his older brother. He was staring at his coffee. 

Anne always ordered it for him the same way every time: black, no sugar, and no cream. Anne stared at Royce and smiled. She wondered what went through his head during times like this. When they were "working" Royce was as easy to read as a comic strip. But at times like this he was as hard to read as Braille.

"Royce?" Anne asked. "Are you okay?" He just stared at her for a moment, blinked, and took a sip of his coffee. Anne kicked his leg under the table. He glanced at her quickly and in one fluent motion drew his pistol. Anne's eyes became saucers as Royce aimed right at her face. Albany urinated a bit in his pants. Royce stood quickly and fired three shots.

"What the hell are you doing?!" Albany screamed while covering his ears. Everyone in the diner dove under their tables. Royce slowly grabbed his coat from behind his chair and holstered his weapon. Anne smacked the side of her head, clearing the cobwebs caused by the loud gunfire.

"This is one of those times where saying something would've been very useful" she said to Royce. He stared at Anne, picked up his coffee, finished it off, blew steam out of his mouth slowly, and walked outside. "What is he doing?" she asked Albany.

"I don't think he even knows what he's doing, the crazy son of a bitch!" Albany spat. He stuck his finger in his ear and shook it. "What was he even firing at? There was no one out there. Oh, my, God! My car! Your lunatic brother shot my car!" 

Royce was opening the back door of the car. Albany was about to say something when Royce pulled a masked man from the back seat of the car. His body slumped onto the pavement. He had two holes in his chest and one in his head. A blade fell from his hand.

"How did you see him?" Anne asked. Royce just stared at her and fished for a cigarette. Albany made a wide birth around the body. He looked queasy. Anne walked to the body and pulled the mask off. "He looks familiar" she said. "Oh, it's you" she laughed. The body had three scars across his face that had healed badly.

"This is not funny!" Albany shouted. "We could've been killed!" Albany noticed the crowd gathering. "Let's get out of here", he said as he mentioned for Royce to get in the car. Royce grabbed the body and moved it to the middle of the street.

The crowd gasped as Royce removed his pistol and fired three more shots. Albany flinched with each shot. Anne smiled and got into the front passenger seat. Albany took a handkerchief from his front pocket and wiped the blood off the backseat, holding back vomit. As he climbed in Royce lit his cigarette and handed his pistol to Anne.

"I always wondered what happened to that guy" Anne said.

"I am too young for this" Albany said. "I should not have to worry about dying at 29! Hurry up and drive, damn you!" he screamed at Royce. Royce took a long drag and started the engine. Anne placed her hand on Royce's hand. It was steady. His pulse was not racing in the least. He sighed softly and drove away just as the police were arriving.

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