Abacus

what do you reckon?”
    Randall pointed his index finger at him and screamed, “Well so were my fucking kids when you almost blew their fucking heads off, you piece of shit!”
    “Please, please , I have had enough, let me live,” he begged, tears streaming down his face. “I’m very sorry, I can change.”
    Randall leant on the tree and said calmly, “You know, Rod, any other person could feel pity for you at the moment. They may even let you go, save you. Then you would go back to your old ways and be an asshole all over again. Me, on the other hand, I know exactly how you think. You are a piece of shit, you will never change. You are best dead.”
    “Is that so,” the now cocky president said, slowly reaching into the back pocket of his jeans and tossing his wallet in Randall’s direction.
    Randall picked up the wallet, opened it and looked at the driver’s license, which was prominent in the clear plastic sleeve. Reading the detail he saw the name Rodney Jenkins . Randall was curious, could he be…
    “That’s right! ” the emotional president yelled. “I’m Terry Jenkins’ brother.”
    “I see that. What do you know?”
    “H e sent me to kill you and your family any way I could. You may kill me, but he will eventually get you.”
    “Wow,” Randall said , tossing the wallet into the billabong. “Your mother must be very proud of both of her boys, what perfect citizens you both turned out to be.”
    “Don’t worry , there is another one of us out there, there are three of us.”
    “The mor e the merrier,” Randall said laughing. “If he wants a piece of the action, I can cook up a good ending for him as well.”
    “You’ll get yours one way or another.”
    “We’ll see… Anyway, Rodney, why is your coward of a brother sending his halfwit brother out to do his dirty work? I guess he must be a little scared, eh?”
    Randall whistled a merry tune as he dragged the crocodile carcass by the tail away from the tree. “We don’t want them snacking before the main course, do we?” After walking back to the car, he returned with more chicken offal. Undoing the knot of the plastic bag, he threw the contents up at the president, totally dowsing him. Walking to the edge of the river, he emptied the remainder into the water.
    “They will return in minutes. I will watch. They will definitely reach your good leg and tear it off. You will bleed out this time. See this pocket knife here?” Randall held up the small bladed weapon. “It is all yours if you want it.”
    “I’ve been through enough. Please, please, I can talk to my brother, sort things out, surely we can come to terms somehow,” he begged.
    Totally ignoring his plea for mercy, Randall coldly continued. “The only use the knife will be to you is to kill yourself before the croc does. Either side of your groin you have your femoral artery. Based on the blood you have already lost, if you cut through it, you will die almost instantly. Anyway, I will be in the car with the knife if you want it. It’s up to you, your choice.”
    Sitting in the front seat , Randall looked eagerly for signs of movement in the water. Eventually his torch caught a set of red, close-set eyes swimming towards the bank. Climbing onto land and growling deeply, the huge beast pulled itself up the bank and lumbered towards the dangling bait. “No, no, fuck off, no,” Rodney shrieked, trying his best to rock back and forth. Upon reaching the president, the huge jaws snapped loudly as it lunged upwards. “Give me the fucking knife!” he shrieked in terror.
    Randall leaped out of the car and fired a shot at the ground near the crocodile, causing it to retreat into the water.
    Looking at the president, Randall reached up with the knife and handed it to him. Without saying a word, he turned and walked back to the car. Flicking on the headlights he lit up the whole tree. The pitiful figure of the president dangled, with the blade held loosely in his hand. He stared vacantly into the darkness as he appeared to contemplate his fate. A deep growl echoed from the billabong, which caused his head to whip around. It was returning. Firming his grip on the blade, he raised it high and held it there, while he mumbled something into the sky. Randall shook his head in disbelief and whispered,
    “Fu cking hypocrite.”
    Prayers finished, the blade quivered momentarily before he forcefully plunged it deep into his upper thigh, and screamed out as he reefed it out. He