One Day in a Small-Town Desert, chapter 14, page 4

(start of book) (start of chapter) (previous page)



Umo Amuéné tried to ignore his partner’s ramblings as they drove through the night, but it was difficult.

“And when the government finally begins to implement Gogzhuè’s directives, then we’ll see some real change in this country. Robberies, prostitution, gambling, adultery--all that stuff--will be completely eliminated in less than a year. The worlds just need to wake up and listen to the words of Èmmwımwènhı, hallowed be his name, and their salvation will be at hand. It’s so simple!”

Lango paused, his breath accelerated. His hands, though, kept fiddling with a pen or something else that Umo couldn’t quite see in the darkness. It produced a clacking noise every second or two.

“Mm-hm,” replied Umo.

As Lango resumed his repetitive rant, Umo tried desperately to form a coherent thought.

The simplest circumstances would be to find both Zhíno and the guns, out of sight of the police. They could take the weapons and--maybe--shoot Zhíno dead. This scenario was highly unlikely.

“. . . with the short skirts they wear, they’re definitely asking for it. If you dress like a whore, you are a whore!” Lango patted his gelled pompadour with one hand. The clacking pen failed to cease. “And the music these days is utterly vile, glorifying a life of drugs, violence, and. . .”

Lango seemed oblivious to the fact that Gogzhuè’s organization dealt heavily in drugs and their methods were indeed quite violent. Cognitive dissonance disregarded by a simple mind. Umo gritted his teeth, trying with all his might to remain impassive and focus on their job.

A more likely scenario they’d encounter would be the police having the weapons in their possession with Zhíno on the loose. Even if Umo and Lango found him, there’d be a hundred policemen in the vicinity. At least then they wouldn’t have to kill Zhíno, but getting the guns would be difficult. If the guns were still in Zhíno’s automobile--

“. . . look down on us as if we’re sub-human, it’s just despicable! Gogzhuè should let us kill them more often, just to keep them in line.”

“Look, Lango,” Umo finally snapped. “I strive to emulate Èmmwımwènhı, hallowed be his name, and spread his teachings as much as the next guy, but I’m trying to concentrate on our current mission.”

As the auto continued to hurtle down the two-lane highway, Umo gave Lango a lengthy stare through his sunglasses. “So just shut up and I won’t throw you from the automobile.”

Lango’s hands ceased fidgeting as he shrunk away from Umo.

If the little twerp weren’t so knowledgeable about weaponry and computers, Umo would have killed him long ago--with Gogzhuè’s blessing.

Pleased with himself, but displaying no outward sign of it, Umo went back to driving and planning their near future.

(next page)