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Saturday, August 30

Closed Casket: Part 3a – The Gas Station

Clouds passed, revealing an almost full moon. The wind blew around the dark gas station. A rusty tea pot sat on a pile of trash and whistled as the wind blew.

Hammer and Jim-Bean arrived at the gas station, exhausted.

“Hello?” shouted Hammer.

No answer. The two agents nodded to each other and, drawing their pistols, circled around opposite sides towards the back of the gas station.

A wooden outhouse door slammed back and forth in the wind.

“Rudolph!” sobbed a voice. “I got buckshot, ya hear?”

Hammer crept up to the outhouse door. Jim-Bean arrived on the other side. With a nod, Hammer kicked it open.

Inside the outhouse was the gas station attendant, in tears, holding his shotgun tightly. He was obviously drunk.

“Freeze!’ shouted Hammer. “Drop the shotgun!”

“My wife…she didn’t want to leave…she wouldn’t move to town even when the state police ordered us to. The kids grew up in the mines…like animals.” He smiled through his tears. “What kind of place is that for children?”

In a split second the old man set the shotgun under his chin.

“No, wait—“ said Jim_Bean. [MORE]


posted by Michael Tresca at 8:21 AM

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