LOU'S TATTOOS

Chapter 39: DO OR DIE

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Glad you stuck around after that cliffhanger ending to Chapter 38. Enjoy the concluding chapter of LOU'S TATTOOS, followed by the epilogue. Happy reading.

~o~~o~~o~

Not far away, a strange mix of people was gathered for burgers at a 24-hour Pancake House. Debbie and Officer Falconi were together, of course, as they were almost every night these days. Pop O'Malley sipped his coffee and watched the group interaction, and three large, heavily tattooed motorcycle gang members completed the burger party. Bull, Hooter, and ChooChoo had never actually had polite dinner conversation with a police officer before, and they were gradually acclimating to this new reality.

Pop had been telling the story of his encounter with Randall and the rendezvous Pop had arranged at the tattoo parlor for nine o'clock. "Yeah, no, I tell ya he's there right now. And if I read that young fella right, Lou ain't gonna be able to chuck him outta the place 'til he's had his say. And I like him. A man's man, y'know? I could tell that even before he showed me his tattoo."

The radio on Falconi's belt crackled to life. A dispatcher's voice droned, "Any unit in the area, please respond. Shots fired at two-oh-three-oh-five South Dixie Highway, in Cutler Ridge."

Every head at the table jerked up, stunned.

"Repeat, any unit in the area, please respond to two-oh-three-oh-five South Dixie Highway, Cutler Ridge. Shots fired."

Debbie jumped up from her chair and began tugging on Falconi's bicep. "That's Pop's place! Jimmy, you gotta respond!"

Falconi obligingly stood and moved toward the door. "Y'all stay here," he said, "I'll be back."

Debbie again grabbed his arm, hard. "They're shooting at my best friend, you ape! You think we're stayin' here! Are you crazy?"

He looked at her and saw determination personified. He nodded, and they both sprang for the restaurant door. Almost immediately the police car's doors closed, wham! wham! Its engine vroomed to life, and the unit peeled off, siren wailing and tires squealing.

Pop pursued them on his '69 Harley-Davidson Captain America Chopper with the telescopic fork (his antique pride and joy). Bull, Hooter and ChooChoo followed close behind, their three motorcycles roaring and belching exhaust smoke.

Inside the police car, Falconi leaned to kiss Debbie quickly, smiled, and reached for his dashboard radio. Before activating the microphone he told her, "Life's never boring with you, is it."

Buddy dragged Lou behind him out the front door of the tattoo parlor. From the top of the entrance steps he fired three shots, smashing the windows of the limousine.

The terrified Fritz huddled in the floorboards, phone in hand, trying to shield his face from falling shards of glass.

Sirens howled in the distance, coming closer every second.

Buddy turned toward Lou and their eyes met. His were filled with evil, hers with horror. He lifted his pistol and deliberately placed it against her forehead.

Bang! Buddy's shot went wild as Randall, launching himself from the top step, made a flying tackle.

When Lou realized she was not dead, she also realized Randall soon might be. Buddy had dropped his gun when tackled, but now he was beating the pulp out of Randall, who seemed able to do nothing but bleed. With strength fading, Randall gripped Buddy like a drowning man, taking any beating Buddy could give, but refusing to fall.

Lou scrambled across the asphalt to retrieve Buddy's gun while avoiding the two battling men. She pointed the gun at the men, but she could not be sure of hitting the right one.

Half a mile away on Dixie Highway, Bull, ChooChoo, Hooter, and Pop O'Malley followed Falconi's patrol car, screaming down the highway. Hooter shouted, "Us chasin' the cops! Man, that's a switch!"

The four motorcycles burned rubber, with Pop's Harley in the lead.

Outside the tattoo parlor, Lou fired a shot into the air.

Buddy released his hold on Randall and turned toward her.

When Buddy stepped toward Lou, however, Randall lunged for Buddy and tackled him about the waist. Both men went down-Randall on the bottom.

Buddy got up, but Randall only rolled and moaned with pain.

Sirens howled, very close now.

Buddy aimed a killing kick at Randall's body, but bang! Buddy's foot stopped in mid-air. He looked down at blood spreading across the side of his shirt. He looked at Lou and her smoking gun.

With murder in her eyes, Lou aimed again.

Buddy held up his hands and limped away into the dark, as quickly as he could manage.

Falconi's patrol car screeched to a halt, just feet from where Lou stood as if frozen. Falconi jumped out, gun drawn, and ran into the darkness where Buddy had gone.

Four motorcycles zoomed past the patrol car and followed Falconi's path into the darkness.

Fritz crawled out of the limousine and hurried toward Randall's prostrate form, but Lou was there before him.

Debbie ran from the patrol car to join Lou, kneeling beside Randall. "Omigosh, omigosh, omigosh, omigosh, that was Buddy the Blade, wasn't it! Lou, are you all right?"

Lou gripped Randall's hand as Fritz tried to stop the bleeding with a formerly immaculate handkerchief from a pocket in his livery.

"Just get an ambulance," Lou said. "We need an ambulance, fast."

"They're on the way," said Debbie.

Randall opened his eyesand saw Lou's face above. He heard sirens wailing. Then everything went dark.

~o~~o~~o~

A/N: Don't forget to click that voting star and leave a brief comment before rushing on to the Epilogue! Thanks for reading.