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Adair, Jay |
Adhikari, Sudeep |
Ahern, Edward |
Aldrich, Janet M. |
Allan, T. N. |
Allen, M. G. |
Ammonds, Phillip J. |
Anderson, Fred |
Anderson, Peter |
Andreopoulos, Elliott |
Arab, Bint |
Armstrong, Dini |
Augustyn, P. K. |
Aymar, E. A. |
Babbs, James |
Baber, Bill |
Bagwell, Dennis |
Bailey, Ashley |
Bailey, Thomas |
Baird, Meg |
Bakala, Brendan |
Baker, Nathan |
Balaz, Joe |
BAM |
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Barker, Tom |
Barlow, Tom |
Bates, Jack |
Bayly, Karen |
Baugh, Darlene |
Bauman, Michael |
Baumgartner, Jessica Marie |
Beale, Jonathan |
Beck, George |
Beckman, Paul |
Benet, Esme |
Bennett, Brett |
Bennett, Charlie |
Bennett, D. V. |
Benton, Ralph |
Berg, Carly |
Berman, Daniel |
Bernardara, Will Jr. |
Berriozabal, Luis |
Beveridge, Robert |
Bickerstaff, Russ |
Bigney, Tyler |
Blackwell, C. W. |
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Blake, Steven |
Blakey, James |
Bohem, Charlie Keys and Les |
Bonner, Kim |
Booth, Brenton |
Boski, David |
Bougger, Jason |
Boyd, A. V. |
Boyd, Morgan |
Boyle, James |
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Brewka-Clark, Nancy |
Britt, Alan |
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Brooke, j |
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Bruce, K. Marvin |
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Burke, Wayne F. |
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Burton, Michael |
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Butcher, Jonathan |
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Butler, Terence |
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Campbell, J. J. |
Campbell, Jack Jr. |
Cano, Valentina |
Cardinale, Samuel |
Cardoza, Dan A. |
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Carver, Marc |
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Catlin, Alan |
Centorbi, David |
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Connor, Tod |
Cooper, Malcolm Graham |
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Coral, Jay |
Corrigan, Mickey J. |
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Coverley, Harris |
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Moss, David Harry |
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Muslim, Kristine Ong |
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Ogurek, Douglas J. |
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Park, Jon |
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Partin-Nielsen, Judith |
Peralez, R. |
Perez, Juan M. |
Perez, Robert Aguon |
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Petyo, Robert |
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Pierce, Rob |
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Ragan, Robert |
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Renney, Mark |
reutter, g emil |
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Rhiel, Ann Marie |
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Rose, Mandi |
Rose, Mick |
Rosenberger, Brian |
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Rosmus, Cindy |
Rowland, C. A. |
Ruhlman, Walter |
Rutherford, Scotch |
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Salinas, Alex |
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Savage, Jack |
Sayles, Betty J. |
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Schneeweiss, Jonathan |
Schraeder, E. F. |
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Sethi, Sanjeev |
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Seymour, J. E. |
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Shepherd, Robert |
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Short, John |
Sim, Anton |
Simmler, T. Maxim |
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Sinisi, J. J. |
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Slaviero, Susan |
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Solender, Michael J. |
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Spicer, David |
Squirrell, William |
Stanton, Henry G. |
Steven, Michael |
Stevens, J. B. |
Stewart, Michael S. |
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Stoler, Cathi |
Stolec, Trina |
Stoll, Don |
Stryker, Joseph H. |
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Succre, Ray |
Sullivan, Thomas |
Surkiewicz, Joe |
Swanson, Peter |
Swartz, Justin A. |
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Taylor, J. M. |
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Thrax, Max |
Ticktin, Ruth |
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Turner, Lamont A. |
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Valent, Raymond A. |
Valvis, James |
Vilhotti, Jerry |
Waldman, Dr. Mel |
Walker, Dustin |
Walsh, Patricia |
Walters, Luke |
Ward, Emma |
Washburn, Joseph |
Watt, Max |
Weber, R.O. |
Weil, Lester L. |
White, Judy Friedman |
White, Robb |
White, Terry |
Wickham, Alice |
Wilhide, Zach |
Williams, K. A. |
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Wilson, Robley |
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Woods, Jonathan |
Young, Mark |
Yuan, Changming |
Zackel, Fred |
Zafiro, Frank |
Zapata, Angel |
Zee, Carly |
Zeigler, Martin |
Zimmerman, Thomas |
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Saith Me Robert
Ragan A man, in dark shades, leads
a blonde by the hand; they sit down at a table in The Hideout, a local bar in the city.
He reaches out and takes her hand again, this time she pulls away and looks over her shoulder. Another man waits outside
in the parking lot in a black Impala with tinted windows. He watches Natalie walk in the
bar with her side project, who is becoming more and more popular these days. It's one thing her wearing
the necklace and earrings Lawrence bought her, but the black dress? He should have taken
it back and burned it and made one of his whores wear it. Ever since Natalie changed that's
all they are to him. She tells Steve, “The last time Lawrence and I
were together, he told me that he knew there was someone else. He claimed that he would
kill whoever it was and maybe even me. I’ve watched him load up a handgun and leave
the house without saying a word.” “Lawrence also told me about how he had stabbed
this flashy thief, said the guy stole from the wrong people, so they called him. So, I
know what he's capable of,” Natalie says. Slamming the rest of his beer, Steve says,
“Everything will be okay. I've got a couple of buddies on the force. They will love
to hear these stories.” The door opens and Natalie shudders, she feels relief
when it's just a couple walking in. Laying her hand over Steve's, she leans forward, her
blue eyes are wide with desperation. “No, fuck that!” she says, “Now
you're really trying to get us killed.” Steve takes a cigarette out of his pack and says, “I'm
going out to smoke, I'll be back in a few.” Natalie watches the other couple, admiring
the woman's red curls as well as her man's thick, full beard. She recalls having gone to
bars with Lawrence and how he would always start a fight over her. She’s glad to
have someone like Steve now. Still sitting in the Impala, the man loads bullets into
a Colt .45. He watches Steve smoke a cigarette as he scrolls through his phone. The door
opens and Natalie walks out. Natalie
tells Steve, “Let’s get out of here.” As
they make their way through the parking lot, the man gets out of his car. Natalie makes
eye contact with Lawrence, who's smiling like a madman. She wants to run but can't even
yell out the word to Steve. Holding
the gun on both of them, Lawrence says, “Remember what I told you, bitch?” Holding his palms up, Steve says, “Come
on now, you don’t really wanna do this.” Natalie
says, “Come on, we can talk it over.” Lawrence
says, “There’s nothing else to talk about,” and pulls the trigger firing
multiple shots at them. By
now there's commotion everywhere. Lawrence notices Steve is still alive. Crawling over
the blood he's just coughed up, Steve realizes Lawrence is close, and begins to beg. Turning
over he says, “I just wanted to sleep with Natalie! Haven't you ever fucked another
man's wife or something?” Lawrence looks off into space recalling some of his
wild times. “Yeah,” he says, “I banged a few. It’s perfectly okay.
But you fucked my woman!” Before Steve can plead any further, Lawrence buries
a hollow point dead in his forehead. His eyes roll back. Sirens in the distance are growing near.
Tucking the pistol in the waistband of his jeans. Lawrence hurries back to his car. Getting
in, he peels out of the parking lot squealing tires. Within five minutes, cops pile into
the parking lot. They have themselves one hell of a crime scene here. Going straight to one of
his employers, Lawrence’s boss cusses him out and calls him stupid. This older man,
maybe 55 with thinning gray hair, says, “You might as well hang it up and go turn
yourself in. They'll know you're the jealous boyfriend and come after you first. Looking at the time on his
gold wrist watch, the guy turns back to Lawrence and says, “We can cover for you
when you do work for us. But you did your own thing so, it's out of our hands.” Taking a drink of Scotch,
he shakes his head and laughs at Lawrence, “Jesus Christ, did you have to kill ‘em?
A real man would have fought him one on one with his hands.” Lawrence stares out the
second-story window and sees a patrol car passing by. Laughing, he says, “Fuck that
bitch, I had to kill both of them because they fucked with my head.” He gets this
wild look in his dark eyes and says, “Vengeance is mine saith me.” The old man unbuttons his
collar and loosens his tie. He warns Lawrence not to ever speak of their dealings. “You
hear someone mention me...keep quiet and they'll get theirs.” With a brand-new evil born
in his eyes, Lawrence says, “I’ll run as long as I can but when they finally
catch me...oh boy, I've got something for ‘em.” This
bullshit boss from the upper echelon says, “Oh! You're going to shoot it out
with the law?” Lawrence
takes off his hat revealing a horrible attempt at a comb-over, he tells the old
man, “The way I'm feeling right now, I'm ready to shoot it out with everyone.”
As the man reaches for what is left of his bottle of Scotch, he hears Lawrence
say, “You know you're getting it too, right?” Reacting quickly, he grabs the bottle to
use it as a weapon. Only his eyes see it's too late. As the barrel of Lawrence's pistol
raises before him. Those shocked eyes see the flash. Next the bullet drills its way through
his throat, shredding his Adams-apple, before making its exit out the back of his neck. Old
motherfucker had it coming for a long time! The spirit running Lawrence's nervous system says, “Tis
the season to do Karma's dirty work.” Hell, Lawrence hasn’t even gotten started
yet. With
the law already after him for a double homicide, why not turn on his employer?
Now the whole organization will be after him. After running the dead man's
pockets and only finding plastic, Lawrence takes off his watch and ring. As
soon as he finds the car keys he's going to take off. Definitely can't be rolling in
the Impala. In his heart, Lawrence
feels like he'll die soon. But whether it be the cops
or his boss’ thugs, he has something for them all.
Robert Ragan, from Lillington NC, lives his life for
art and writing. He has stories and poetry online at Vext
Magazine, Punk Noir Magazine, Synchronized Chaos, and Terror House
Magazine. Alien Buddha Press had published his short story collection Mannequin Legs and Other Tales.
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In Association with Fossil Publications
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