The Unit by Terry DeHart Read Free Book Online

ass.”
    It was one of the sayings our usually worthless old man taught us.
    “Okay,” I said. “I’ll just stay here with you.”
    One of the little Kelly twins let out a yell behind me. He’d found something on one of the bodies. He had a handful of coins and they were gold, and the other guys searching the bodies found more gold coins, and then they were hump dancing and tossing coins and whooping it up. They acted like kids for a while. But then they remembered that Ookie was shot and they quieted down and finished stripping the dead.
    I motioned for the Kellys to toss me a couple of coins. I caught them and they were warm and heavy. I held one of them up in front of Ookie’s face and he said, Wow, but he only said it to make me happy, to show that he was paying attention to his big bro. He tried to sit up, and blood came out of his mouth.
    “Listen,” he said. I put my ear close to his mouth. He started coughing and shaking all over, but he pounded the flat of his hand against the road until the shaking stopped. I didn’t wipe his coughed-up blood from my ear.
    “Listen. I’m no good. I’m all fucked up. But there’s one thing I can still do.”
    “Quiet,” I said, but it was a dumbass television thing to say. God knows I’d run my mouth nonstop if I was shot and dying. Ookie smiled a huge smile that was like the smile he had when he was twelve and he stole a bottle of whiskey from our dad and gave it to me for my birthday.
    “For you,” he said. “I can help you one last time.”
    “Don’t worry about helping anyone, kid.”
    “It’s for me, too. It hurts bad, Billy.”
    I had some idea about what was coming. Part of me didn’t want to hear it, and part of me was curious to see if I was right. He whispered so no one but me could hear.
    “Pop me one in the head.”
    “No.”
    “Do it. You know it’s the right move.”
    A gust of wind blew through the trees and set the meadow grass to bobbing. The guys were quiet in their plundering. I heard the clinking of gold coins and grabbing sounds as loot was pulled from pockets. They all had their heads tilted sideways, watching. It seemed like even the animals in the woods were watching.
    “Okay,” I said, and Ookie smiled his little-kid smile like he’d just gotten the best present in the world.
    I was packing the Beretta I took from a dead National Guard lieutenant. I pulled it from its flap holster and unsafed it. The guys were done with their work and they gathered around, even the ones who should’ve been standing guard. I racked the slide and pointed the pistol at Ookie’s head. My brother used the last of his muscles and blood and balls and heart, and he said, “Just remember that it wasn’t you that killed me.”
    The guys probably thought he was trying to be tough when he died, but Ookie gritted his teeth into a smile and gave a nod goodbye. I pulled the trigger before his smile could start to fade. The back of his head busted open and there was a lot of blowback. It was in my eyes and running from my nose and chin. I stood with bits of my brother on my face and hands, and the guys didn’t say anything, but they couldn’t close their mouths. I tore a piece of cloth from the coat of an old dead guy and wiped the Beretta more or less clean and put it back in its holster. I picked up two of the gold coins and put them over Ookie’s eyes. I walked into the crowd of guys and grabbed one of the little drunks and searched him and took a pint bottle of Jim Beam off him. I put the bottle in Ookie’s hand and I didn’t need to say that I would surely kill the man who tried to take it.
    The guys formed a line and passed in front of Ookie. A few of them gave him things as they passed. I didn’t watch to see what-all they gave him, even though most of the ones who gave him things were only trying to score points with me.
    I turned my back on it. I raised my hands and looked up into the overcast, hoping to catch a last look at Ookie’s soul,