to accomplish that feat, Austin broke it with a blow from a baseball bat he had been hiding inside his coat. When he tried with the other arm, Austin broke that one, too. Randy fell to the ground writhing with pain, unable to cry for help, with his penis still hanging out urinating all over himself.
“Does that hurt?” asked Austin as he raised the bat and struck him on the knee and broke his kneecap.
“Well, are you going to answer me, asshole?”
Randy was nodding his head vigorously, indicating that he indeed was hurting, and a lot, but Austin was not really interested in a response, he just wanted to make sure this son of a bitch would experience more pain than he thought possible, a hell of a lot more than he inflicted on his girls.
When Austin struck Randy again, taking out his other kneecap, he realized that Randy was starting to fade out.
“Not yet, you idiot I am not going to allow you to pass out on me,” he said as he threw some water in Randy’s face to revive him.
“I pray to God this hurt as much as you hurt my wife and daughter, Randy. But you won’t have to worry, no one will ever find out because you will not be around to tell. See, asshole, I am going to kill you today. This is the last day of your miserable life.” Austin kept striking Randy with the bat, breaking every bone in his body.
By this time Randy was completely immobile. He just lay there staring at this madman with tears flowing, having trouble breathing. The tape was covering his mouth and blood was clogging his nostrils.
When this incident first started, he was thinking of the revenge his family and he were going to take on this man, but at this moment all he was thinking of was all the pain being inflicted on him. The only other thought that crossed his mind was why they haven’t killed this man before. All this wouldn’t be happening and he would not be experiencing all this pain. “Please stop this pain,” he was trying to say, but no sound would come out. He was praying for mercy - something he never had for anyone - for the first time in his life. He resigned to the fact that this man was going to kill him and he knew that his only hope would be if his cousins walked in right now. But those assholes were having too much fun drinking to notice he had been gone longer than he should have.
No one came and his prayers were not answered as he lost consciousness.
Austin lay the bat across Randy’s neck and with one foot on one side to hold it steady, stepped on the other side with all the might he could muster, crushing his windpipe and breaking Randy’s neck. Randy was out of the ball game. He would never hurt anyone else ever again.
Austin looked around and was amazed at how little blood was spilled, with all this taking just a few minutes. He knew that Randy would be missed soon and, with all the people in there, someone had to be waiting and wondering what’s taking this asshole so long to come out of the bathroom. Austin knew he could not take the chance of just walking out and being discovered, and even though he would have loved to stick around and see the look on the other boys’ faces, he had to play it smart. He could not take a chance on getting caught, at least not yet. He still had a lot of unfinished business.
He took the tape off Randy’s mouth, leaving the bat where it lay, and climbed through the bathroom window.
The look on Randy’s face continued to puzzle and haunt the sheriff for a long time. His eyes were bulging and filled with tears and his mouth wide open to a scream that no one heard. It was not until the autopsy that some adhesive residue was discovered around Randy’s mouth, explaining what had happened.
Austin got in his truck and drove toward the sheriff’s house, parked two blocks away and watched. It was not long before he saw him tearing out, speeding off in his cruiser.
Austin started for the sheriff’s driveway. It was very dark now. He moved swiftly, using the trees for cover. He kept a sharp eye for any movement and strained to listen for any sound. He knew that if anyone saw him now, it would mean disaster. There would be no revenge and he would certainly wind up dead. He could not allow that to happen. His life was never of any concern to him, but he did not want to die before he delivered the Johnsons to hell. He had to fulfill his promise to his wife and daughter.
As he reached the driveway, Austin slid under the sheriff’s prized Cadillac Escalade, and proceeded to accomplish his mission. It had been a long time since he used that term, not since the military when they were all missions, wondering if that’s what it was. He was glad he had that military experience. He reverted back to those old days when he had to rehearse his role over and over again until he felt comfortable with the mission and was assured success. He used that experience here by practicing what he had to do on his own vehicle until he was able to accomplish the task in just a few minutes.
He wanted to make sure the explosives would not be detected. He taped them above the drive shaft and made sure they were concealed enough, just in case the vehicle went in for a due oil change. He knew that no amount of concealment would prevent the bomb from being discovered if the vehicle went in for any other maintenance reason. Chances are this vehicle will not need any work done; Cadillac had done an admirable job. When he finished installing the explosives, he sprayed the whole area with the undercoating spray he had purchased, inspecting his handiwork and feeling some satisfaction that it looked undetectable.
When Austin emerged from under the sheriff’s Cadillac and got back in his truck, ten minutes had passed. Not wasting any more time, he immediately drove home, tossing out the window any remnants of whatever he had left with him and shedding his clothes, throwing them in the washing machine as soon as he walked in the house, making sure to dispose of any evidence linking him to both Randy’s death and the Cadillac, in case it was discovered. Now all he had to do was wait for his opportunity to come.
The electronic transmitter was installed in his key chain. It wouldn’t take much to send a couple of the Johnsons to the hell they deserved. By this time it was past midnight, and even though he was exhausted, he had trouble falling asleep, praying he had not left anything to chance.
At 3:00 a.m., Austin awoke with a start when he heard his front door burst open, wondering what had taken them so long.
Sheriff Butch Johnson barged into Austin’s bedroom with his gun drawn, yelling at Austin to stay where he was and not move. Austin was not about to make any sudden moves. He was not that stupid, knowing that the sheriff would like nothing better than having any excuse to put a bullet in him.
“To what do I owe this pleasure, sheriff? I do hope you have a search warrant,” he said calmly.
The sheriff immediately produced a warrant, as Austin knew he would.
“Where were you last night?” asked the sheriff angrily.
“Right where you found me, sheriff,” came Austin’s reply. “After the funeral I came straight home for much-needed rest, no thanks to you and your three hoodlums. I have not been getting enough rest lately. And why the concern all of a sudden, may I ask?”
“You are under arrest for the murder of Randy Johnson.”
“So, someone finally had enough and killed that bastard,” Austin responded without showing any emotions. He was going to jail, that was certain. He might have to wait for another chance to get the others but for now he at least rid the city of Burleson of one piece of trash.
Just then he noticed a moment’s hesitation on the sheriff’s face. They had no evidence, he thought. They had nothing on him; they were just shooting in the dark hoping they could tie him to the murder. He could read it on the sheriff’s face. It was
