And Darkness Fell by David Berardelli

nodded, and more hair rubbed her cheek. “Okay, Moss, how’s about we
get better acquainted?”
“Why?”
“Not too many of us walking around these days. We’ve gotta stick together.”
“I prefer sticking to myself. It’s less complicated.”
She brought up both hands and pushed more stray hair away from her face.
Another cloud of sweetness wafted my way. In different circumstances, I’d have
been a goner.
“You’re tough, Moss.”
“I have to be.”
“Even with someone who wants to be friendly?”
“Especially with one of them.”
“I’m a hot lady, Moss. I like my fun. Not much of it these days, so I’ve gotta
take it where I can find it. I can make you feel really good.”
You’re really playing hardball, baby .
“I’ll bet you can.”
“I’ve got half a case of some pretty good Scotch in my back seat. C’mon over
and we’ll have a little party.”
“Thanks, but I’ve got to be going. How about a rain check?”
“What’s wrong? You don’t like women?”
“Love ’em. Dream about ’em. I’ve been obsessed with them since I was a
kid.”
“What don’t you like about me?”
“For one thing, you tried to run me down.”
“I do crazy things when I’m lonely and frustrated.”
“I don’t know many women who don’t.”
“You know what they say, don’tcha?”
“What who says?”
“People.”
“What do they say?”
“The crazier the chick, the wilder the ride.”
“I’ve heard that one a few times.”
“You’d better believe it, too.”
“You’re one delicious-looking babe. I just don’t have the time now.”
“Why not make time? A little Scotch and some of that sweet coke I picked up
a few days ago? We could be making sudsy memories in my back seat.”
Her right arm raised a couple of inches, and brought her hand closer to her
door. I placed my right hand on my hip, which brought it within six inches of the
automatic.
“C’mon, Moss. I don’t know about you, but I’m really horny. Haven’t had
any in weeks. You’re hot looking and probably just as horny as me, so let’s get it
on and…”
“No, thanks.”
I could see her scowling behind her sunglasses.
“What the hell’s wrong? Got something against a little nookie? When was the
last time you had any?”
“Can’t remember. Weeks. Months. Doesn’t matter any more.”
“C’mon over, then. We’ll climb in back and see how much Scotch we can
kill. And how much coke we can snort. I just picked up this van. It’s new and the
shocks are a little stiff. Let’s see what we can do about breakin’ ’em in.”
She raised her arm a couple of more inches. Her palm slowly turned upward.
My instinct kicked in. She was about to grab something. Her thigh muscles
tensed and she turned her face slightly to her right.
Christ, I don’t wanna do this. I snatched the automatic and put three quick
holes in a horizontal pattern across the center of the door. A loud shriek issued,
and a machine pistol clattered to the pavement near Carla’s white sandals, which
quickly pitted with blood. Carla dove for the pistol, her head disappearing behind
the door. As soon as it reappeared, I put a hole in her forehead. Her sunglasses
split in two and flew in opposite directions, as her head jerked back.
I put three more quick rounds in the gap between the door and the frame, just
above the rifle barrel that had appeared. A scream blasted from the inside of the
van. The barrel jumped in the air, whacking the roof. The rifle came back down,
slapping the driver’s door, then the running board, before landing on Carla’s still
form.
Long red hair appeared beneath the doorframe, stopping when it touched the
pavement. Two hands slid down. I waited. A female body slid out head-first,
thumping the macadam then landing across Carla.
My gun pointed out, I approached the bloody scene. I suspected my shots had
all been kill shots, but I’d seen countless training films and heard horror stories of
the enemy successfully operating a weapon