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Story (The Killers)
"THE KILLERS" by Ernest Hemingway -
A sequel by Andrew Halliburton
Nick sat and waited in the Greyhound bus station for the connection that would take him to Denver. In two days' time, he would be out in those clean Rocky Mountains, far away from this mean little town and the kind of things that went on in it. Outside, it was beginning to snow and he could see an overcoated figure shuffling down the street, his head bowed against the icy wind.
"Ole?" Nick called. "Ole Andreson?" Ole walked on, as though he could not hear Nick. He was going to the lunchroom! Nick followed him, calling Ole's name every so often. Whenever he picked up his pace, Ole picked up his own until they were almost running to the lunchroom. Ten minutes later, Ole reached the lunchroom. Nick paused. Ole walked in, said, "Hi there, George, I'll have a steak!" and all of a sudden there was the kind of bang that only happens when someone fires a sawn-off, followed by the thud of a dead person hitting the floor. There was shouting, and Nick thought that Al and Max had come back to kill Ole.
He took a few steps towards the lunchroom when he heard a voice like George's shout, "Sam! What in the hell did you do that for?" Nick ran into the lunchroom. He saw Ole, lying dead on the ground. He looked at Sam in a state of disbelief.
"I had to do it," said Sam. He went on, "the bastards would have killed us all if they'd come back, I know for sure."
"And what if they do come back?" George asked.
"I have this!" exclaimed Sam, producing the sawn-off.
"You had that when you shot poor Ole though, didn't you? You traitor!" said Nick.
"Oh look, will you shut up? Hide in the kitchen for now. We can always see who it is if anyone arrives here, through the slit in the door," said Sam.
The best part of half an hour passed. No one had arrived or departed when all of a sudden, the door burst open. Nick jumped out of his skin. Sam tentatively opened the slit in the door so he could see who was there. "Oh dammit," he said, "those bastards are back, this time with AR33 assault rifles!" he listened to what they were saying.
"Job over, right?" said Max. "Ole's dead, we're in the money, everyone, except Ole, and maybe those two bright boys, lives happily ever after!"
"Yeah, maybe," said Al, "but who the hell killed him?"
"Maybe the nigger got his hands on a gun or something!" They laughed, when all of a sudden; Sam burst though the door with guns blazing. When the shooting stopped, Sam said, "The name's Sam, you bastards."
Nick was infuriated. "Jesus!" he exclaimed. "They weren't going to kill us! There was no need for that!"
Sam said, "Oh yeah, then why did they both have guns, then?"
Nick walked into the restaurant area, as though he had a point to prove. He picked up Max's gun and pulled the trigger. The gun clicked. "Empty!" he said, then took Al's gun. He pulled the trigger; it fired once, and then clicked. "One bullet in it. Now, Sam, would you care to explain how he planned to kill all of us with one bullet?
Sam resignedly said, "OK, so I was wrong. Nevertheless, they're dead now, that's that. No use crying over spilt milk!"
Now it was George's turn to be infuriated. "You cannot go killing people willy-nilly like that."
"I DON'T CARE!" shouted Sam.
"OK, OK! Calm down! Everyone go back to the kitchen!" Nick was surprisingly calm just now.
Another half hour passed, and a black car drove up to the lunchroom. They walked into the lunchroom. Sam didn't recognise them, neither did Nick. Nick was about to go and greet them, when George whispered, "No! You do that, you die! That's the Yakuzi, a Japanese-American terrorist group based in Chicago and Hiroshima. They're notorious for killing bystanders! We make so much as a clatter and we're dead."
"Well, I don't know about you," said Sam, his voice raising, "but I'm not going down without a fight!" He burst out of the kitchen. He shot one of the Yakuzi, but when he pulled the trigger again, he found that he had run out of ammo. He exclaimed, "Oh shit!" and tried to run for the door, but before he could get there, there was a short burst of machinegun fire, a thud, and that was the end of Sam.
Nick whispered to George, "they've killed him. The bastards have killed him! I can't believe this! I'm gonna go fight the-" he paused. He noticed he was raising his voice. "I'm gonna go fight the last of them." This visibly discomforted George, but before he could say anything in protest, a shout came from the dining area. "How many people are in here? There's four of us, and how many of you? None? Well, our job is hereby over. Well done, men!"
Suddenly, a police car drove up beside the restaurant. A few seconds of gunfire, then silence. Two of the Yakuzi were dead!
"Dammit!" exclaimed Lee, the leader of the Yakuzi group sent out to neuter the situation. "We'd better be out of here!"
The door opened, then closed, but no one left. Lee knew there was still someone there. George quietly crept out of the kitchen, when Nick shouted, "Are they gone?" and the Yakuzi jumped up from their hiding-place behind the counter and started to blast at everything. George had been shot in the head! Nick started to run. He was then shot in the leg, and he fell, but crawled slowly along, and, as though he was impervious to the pain, stood up and walked to the back exit. Another shot, and his hand was a bloody mess. "Argh!" Nick shouted, and made one last dying attempt for the door. He was through! He started to walk out into the open space behind the lunchroom. He knew where he was going! He was getting out of this mean little town.
What was to become of Nick? Not even he could know that. Not him, not the Yakuzi, not the police, not even me. He walked out into the setting sun, and disappeared