The Pale Man Rises

CHAPTER SEVEN

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After his conversation with the kid Clay, Luther Newton got antsy. He lay there on the musty stained covers of the bed and stared at the ceiling. He now intensely wished he had not taken this fuckin' job. Strong armin' could be a dangerous gig, especially trying to extort money from some independent minded rural types.

Shit everyone of these hayseeds had an arsenal at his disposal, if not in their house then close by in their trucks. Suppose the kid didn't think he'd make good on the threats and yacked to his old man. They might even try to ambush him. The fuckin' kid might become a local hero for blowing away an outlaw biker. Otto would soon be languishing in some prison and he maybe in his grave. Yeah he wished he'd turned down the job, but Otto had made it sound like such a great score and easy to boot. He needed the work, and there was no dishonor in work no matter how shitty. Luther prided himself on his work ethic criminal though it was. Damned it he'd let them get the jump on him he thought. He'd get them first!

So now he decided he'd just ride out there to the Reese farm tonight and surprise their asses. He'd blast the fuckin' lot of 'em and take all the bread for himself. That queer Otto wouldn't do nuthin' either. He thought he could plain take advantage of him. He thought he was stupid, but he wasn't so stupid when it came to money. Oh he'd made a lot of mistakes in his life, but they were more often the result of being someone with an impulsive nature.

The very idea that he'd take all the risks and then get the proposed 75% of the loot to Otto was preposterous. Well Luther decided he'd punish Otto for having such gall, by killing the whole family and takin' all the money. Just like those fellows Scott Wilson and Robert Blake played in the movie "In Cold Blood".

Only their victims the Clutter family didn't have any money and Blake's character Perry Smith 

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and his pal Hickock whom Wilson portrayed were sentenced to the rope by the Kansas authorities. But Luther decided he would have the loot in his hands before he would commit himself to a capital offense. And if Otto wanted to get cute he'd threaten to implicate him in a CONSPIRACY TO ROBBERY & HOMICIDE charge. He wouldn't want to be facing such charges, not in any southern state, especially with the added burden that he was "A goddamn Pure T Faggot!" No ole Otto would just count his blessings and be content to keep pushing dope to those hippie punks out in La La land.

And Luther, well he would have the last laugh after all. And should Otto try something funny like sending one of his fag boy bodybuilders sniffing around trying something cute he'd send him back to California with his head in his hands.

He jumped up from the bed and wheeled the Harley from the room. Once he was outside on the blacktop of the parking lot he kick started the big hog and in the process roused the few other guests along this line of rooms of the cheap motel.

As he fit the helmet onto his woolly head he noted the hint of moisture on the breeze that pushed down the interstate highway. He studied the sky and saw dark clouds gathering obscuring the moon and stars. Maybe it was going to rain, maybe he wouldn't be able to do the deed until in the morning. Nevertheless he decided he'd still make a dry run out that way to recheck the distance. He couldn't sleep just yet so maybe the ride would relax him putting him in the frame of mind that he could get some rest upon his return to the motel.

Yeah he decided that's what he would do, take a ride out there and then return and get him some Zs. He'd rise before the sun and head back out there and surprise 'em good! Just like the commercial said he earned his money the old fashion way. And what could be more old fashion than armed robbery and maybe a murder or two to boot?