Tina.”
“How’d you know my name?” Tina asked, perturbed. All three regulators glanced at each other.
“Nobody’s getting in trouble, kid,” Slim said. “We just want to talk with you. You think you can do that?”
“We’ll give your dad his food, later,” Pino said. “So don’t worry.” Pino grinned at Slim.
Slim smiled back, chuckling. “Yeah, no doubt.”
“My dad’s expecting me,” Tina said. She started to roll the bicycle again.
“Can you come with us?” D’Shawn said, beaming brightly. “We’ll replace your snack with something better.”
“With what?”
“Animal crackers.”
“No,” she said and resumed her walk.
“Kids these days,” he said and bear hugged her, hoisting her up as she kicked and screamed. He raised her off her feet, and, as he turned to take her to the mobile unit for further investigation, he heard a loud crack—the sound of gunfire.
V
Her father watched this entire incident through the scope of a hunting rifle. The first shot hit its mark. The gun kicked back on his shoulder as he observed a spray of gristle and gore jet backward from the open wound of the soldier’s neck.
VI
D’Shawn collapsed in a heap of blood as it gushed out of his torn carotid. Blood spewed up in a fountain, spraying on Tina’s shirt and face. She shrieked in horror. The victim dropped her and she quickly got to her feet.
She ran without her bike or the food to the nearest home, crying, as assault rifles and guns detonated all around her, discharging muzzle flashes and smoke, as the regulators shot up the side of the apartment, spraying it with bullets.
The nearest house was Embry’s. Morgan opened the front door to let Tina in.
VII
Gunfire erupted in the midsection of Maple Street. They blasted onto the third floor. Helicopters picked up this scene and relayed it to the public. On ground level, Embry was still in his room, when he heard the firestorm of hot lead ricocheting and chewing into the third-story complex, blowing out windows, shattering glass. The balcony became riddled with holes.
He couldn’t believe it. They were shooting on innocent civilians. Not all the people had evacuated. Embry extracted a cigarette with jittery hands, and lit the tobacco. He puffed, breathing streams of smoke out his nostrils.
“Jesus Christ,” he said. “Stay away from the windows.” Both children stared at him with trepidation. Tina was crying, cheeks flushed and wet, wanting her daddy. Morgan looked calm as ever. Embry went to his bedroom and fetched his semi-automatic pistol. He checked his clip, slammed it back into the chamber, and hustled to the living room. He took his cell phone and snapped pictures, videotaping the incident happening beyond his front yard.
His mind wandered to whom he’d call—his wife? Where was she? She had gone out earlier without telling him where she was headed. When he called, she didn’t answer her phone. His voice messages were still unanswered in her inbox. He knew. He tried his mother-in-law’s number. That didn’t go through, either. What if they were hurt? What if—
He whirled around when he felt a hand touch his leg. It was the Brewster kid
“They didn’t make it,” he said.
“Who?” Embry asked as the gunshots kept cracking. He had to shout to make himself heard. “Who didn’t make it?”
“The woman.”
“My wife?”
Brewster nodded. Just then, a ringtone began to chime, and Embry rummaged in his pocket. It wasn’t his phone, because his was on vibration. Tina picked up her pink smart phone.
“How do you know that?”
“The spiders told me,” Morgan replied. He cocked his head as the gunfire ended. Morgan had laid the tightly sealed jar on the ledge of the window.
The sun dipped behind the clouds, then reappeared. The frumpy grey nest of haze was coming in from the west, growing darker—the sign of a storm brewing. The room inside Embry’s house dimmed and lightened up again, throwing
“How’d you know my name?” Tina asked, perturbed. All three regulators glanced at each other.
“Nobody’s getting in trouble, kid,” Slim said. “We just want to talk with you. You think you can do that?”
“We’ll give your dad his food, later,” Pino said. “So don’t worry.” Pino grinned at Slim.
Slim smiled back, chuckling. “Yeah, no doubt.”
“My dad’s expecting me,” Tina said. She started to roll the bicycle again.
“Can you come with us?” D’Shawn said, beaming brightly. “We’ll replace your snack with something better.”
“With what?”
“Animal crackers.”
“No,” she said and resumed her walk.
“Kids these days,” he said and bear hugged her, hoisting her up as she kicked and screamed. He raised her off her feet, and, as he turned to take her to the mobile unit for further investigation, he heard a loud crack—the sound of gunfire.
V
Her father watched this entire incident through the scope of a hunting rifle. The first shot hit its mark. The gun kicked back on his shoulder as he observed a spray of gristle and gore jet backward from the open wound of the soldier’s neck.
VI
D’Shawn collapsed in a heap of blood as it gushed out of his torn carotid. Blood spewed up in a fountain, spraying on Tina’s shirt and face. She shrieked in horror. The victim dropped her and she quickly got to her feet.
She ran without her bike or the food to the nearest home, crying, as assault rifles and guns detonated all around her, discharging muzzle flashes and smoke, as the regulators shot up the side of the apartment, spraying it with bullets.
The nearest house was Embry’s. Morgan opened the front door to let Tina in.
VII
Gunfire erupted in the midsection of Maple Street. They blasted onto the third floor. Helicopters picked up this scene and relayed it to the public. On ground level, Embry was still in his room, when he heard the firestorm of hot lead ricocheting and chewing into the third-story complex, blowing out windows, shattering glass. The balcony became riddled with holes.
He couldn’t believe it. They were shooting on innocent civilians. Not all the people had evacuated. Embry extracted a cigarette with jittery hands, and lit the tobacco. He puffed, breathing streams of smoke out his nostrils.
“Jesus Christ,” he said. “Stay away from the windows.” Both children stared at him with trepidation. Tina was crying, cheeks flushed and wet, wanting her daddy. Morgan looked calm as ever. Embry went to his bedroom and fetched his semi-automatic pistol. He checked his clip, slammed it back into the chamber, and hustled to the living room. He took his cell phone and snapped pictures, videotaping the incident happening beyond his front yard.
His mind wandered to whom he’d call—his wife? Where was she? She had gone out earlier without telling him where she was headed. When he called, she didn’t answer her phone. His voice messages were still unanswered in her inbox. He knew. He tried his mother-in-law’s number. That didn’t go through, either. What if they were hurt? What if—
He whirled around when he felt a hand touch his leg. It was the Brewster kid
“They didn’t make it,” he said.
“Who?” Embry asked as the gunshots kept cracking. He had to shout to make himself heard. “Who didn’t make it?”
“The woman.”
“My wife?”
Brewster nodded. Just then, a ringtone began to chime, and Embry rummaged in his pocket. It wasn’t his phone, because his was on vibration. Tina picked up her pink smart phone.
“How do you know that?”
“The spiders told me,” Morgan replied. He cocked his head as the gunfire ended. Morgan had laid the tightly sealed jar on the ledge of the window.
The sun dipped behind the clouds, then reappeared. The frumpy grey nest of haze was coming in from the west, growing darker—the sign of a storm brewing. The room inside Embry’s house dimmed and lightened up again, throwing
Similar Books
