Disclaimer: Justified is not mine, never will be. It belongs to Elmore Leonard, the best crime novelist in America.
Author's Note: The RW has been keeping me away from the keyboard. It's been for good stuff though. Saw my oldest, who's in Army ROTC graduate from the Basic Airborne Course (Jump School) at Ft. Benning GA, went to FL for vacation. Going to try to finish this story. Willie Ray is hard. The way I drew him he really has no redeeming qualities. This is my first attempt at writing a bad guy. Hope it doesn't suck too much. As I said in the first chapter, Willie Ray was inspired by the song "Castleneck" by Cliff Wagner & Old #7.
"when the grim reaper cut him down, drove him to the sky, there was no one else around, no one said goodbye, just glad to see him die"
Gator's Place, April 20, 2009 1535hrs.
If you asked William Raymond Bayard, he'd tell you. He's made a lot of mistakes in his life. His final and fatal mistake is about to happen. When he came out of Starke, Willie Ray swore he'd never go back inside again. Now, US Deputy Marshal Raylan Givens is going to try and arrest him?
Not Happening.
I can take him; I can take him,.Take. Him.
The voice was back. The same voice in his head, he heard any time gunplay was imminent. Willie Ray had a Llama 9mm semi-auto pistol stuck in his waistband.
If I can snake her out fast enough, I'll get him.
"You're not takin' me to jail."
Willie grabbed the grip of the 9mm and pulled. The hammer snagged on his shirt.
DAMN!
Just as the shirt ripped, Willie Ray saw flame erupt from the muzzle of the Marshal's pistol. His own weapon was clear and coming up when he felt two blows to his chest. Involuntarily his right hand clenched and the Llama discharged into the floor.
WAIT,WHAT! I'm SHOT. Goddamn, that Marshal is fast!
Bayard felt his butt hit the floor. The 9mm felt like it weighed a ton and he couldn't hold it anymore. It hit the floor at about the same time his back did. Suddenly he was looking up at the ceiling of Gator's Place and Willie Ray couldn't catch his breath.
Gotta get up, gotta get up, I GOTTA GET UP!
His muscles wouldn't obey him and he just laid there. His lungs were burning as he tried to suck oxygen in. The edges of his vision were closing in towards the center and the ceiling looked like he was falling away from it. Marshal Givens came into his sight, pistol pointed at Willie Ray.
JESUS, is he gonna shoot me again?
But all the Marshal did was look down at Willie Ray, pistol lowering to his side. Willie Ray could swear he saw something that looked like regret cross the other man's face.
It almost looks like he's sorry he shot me. Weird. If I'd done him, I'd left here laughin'.
Bayard started to feel cold and his mouth opened and closed like a gaffed fish.
Can't get any air. Gotta Breathe.
Willie Ray's sight started to fail and he thought he could hear somebody trying to speak to him, but it was too soft for Willie Ray to hear.
It sure as shit ain't the Marshal, who is it?
It was William Raymond Bayard's last earthly thought.
"…..satan sits on his left shoulder with fire on his breath, he whispers to him softly, put your evil soul to rest"
A/N: Kinda short I know. My muse is probably still on vacation. If it did suck, rest assured I'll try and do better the next time. Attention NCIS fans, yes M E that means you, a new Mike Franks story is in the works. And for all you Justified fans, a new Raylan story too.
