Step wasn’t thinking, he wasn’t planning, he wasn’t doing anything other than what he instinctively knew how to do: closeouts. The first of Boss’s goons wasn’t even off the bottom rung of the stairs when Step shot him square in the chest. He fell forward, unable to right himself before he smacked his head into the concrete wall.
The second goon tripped over the first and managed to miss being shot in the process. Had he had the wherewithal to return fire once he hit the floor, he may have managed to avoid being hit by a third round from Step’s pistol. The bullet entered the small of his back, and exited his left ass cheek.
The man took another bullet in the back of the head as Step passed him in the corridor.
Boss fell away from the trapdoor upon hearing the first gunshot. He quickly crawled behind a small tractor to his right.
“Hold your fire!” Boss yelled.
Step stood at the bottom of the stairs. “Don’t see the point in that.”
“Step? That you?”
“You surprised?”
“Disappointed.”
“Yeah, well I ain’t feeling too good about myself, neither.”
“You had potential, Step. Ain’t never met someone who took to closeouts like you.”
“I will admit, I do have a skill for it. I’ll give you that.”
“And now you’re just gonna piss all that away.”
Step chuckled. “I aim to keep up the practice. I’m just gonna be closing out a different sort.” He climbed halfway up the stairs.
“I got the high ground, boy. You ain’t climbing out of that hole alive.”
“I expect you’re right about that, Boss, but how I make it out of this situation don’t concern me near as much as how you make it out of this situation. I may not leave this tunnel alive, but I’m counting on you having the same kind of luck leaving the barn.”
Boss laughed. “You may think too highly of yourself, Step. I got the drop on you.”
“No doubt,” Step said, “but I’m guessing you got yourself hid behind that tractor.”
Boss furrowed his brow. “Suppose I do. What then?”
“You using that old Amigo of yours?”
Boss looked at his gun. “I might be, yeah.”
Step nodded with a grin. “I thought so.”
“Don’t see what difference it makes.”
“You ain’t got nothing but cheap firing range ammo for that piece of shit gun.”
“So?”
“So, that ammo sparks out something awful.”
“Still gets the job done.”
“It’ll do more than that. Take a whiff.”
Boss hesitated and then sniffed the air. The smell of fuel assaulted his nostrils.
“You’re about five feet from that fuel tank, if I remember right. You fire a shot, you’ll blow yourself six feet past the tree line.”
Boss looked at the tank and sniffed the air several more times. He chuckled nervously. “You’re full of shit, Step.”
Step moved up the narrow staircase. “Well, we’ll find out soon enough. Ima stick my head out this hole in a second or two. You fire off a shot and see what happens.”
Boss cocked his weapon and took aim at the opened trapdoor.