ONE SHOT, ONE KILL
A killer wanders the roadways of America. Searching...
THE ROAD HUMMED underneath the Crown Vic as the night caressed him like an old lover. Yet his heart pumped hard inside his chest. As the hunt always did. Only one thing would fix that feeling. And it could not come soon enough.
As if God had him on his mind, red tail lights appeared in the distance.
Prayers answered.
Red lights grew from dots to form strange little eyes as he jammed the accelerator to the floor. He reached over, grabbed a domed rotating light he bought from the flea market, and placed it on top of the dash. The light inside danced and wiggled. The glow from the bumper the Vic hugged intensified as the car broke. Both cars pulled along the shoulder of the road as the crunch of gravel replaced the hum of the blacktop.
His pulse quickened when the low-wattage bulb from the overhead light tried to fill the interior as the driver reached for something out of view. What was he reaching for? raced through his mind. Only time would tell. And that time was now.
He took a deep breath. Steading his nerves. He didn’t want it to be too quick, however; he didn’t want to linger either. Had to find that right rhythm of seconds and minutes that were between life and death.
The gravel crunched under his feet as he walked up to the other car’s door. Before the man inside could react, he snapped on the large flashlight he was carrying. The other driver shielded his eyes from the intensity of light.
“Good evening, officer. I didn…”
POP!
The pistol jerked in his hand as he squeezed the trigger. The gun discharging was louder than he thought it would be outside.
Blood, bone; gore exploded from the driver’s right arm as the bullet struck, spinning him around in the tight space between seat and steering wheel. The action was so swift that he thought he had missed. Now reaching for a weapon on their own. He would not let him get the chance to use it. Firing rapidly through the window, stepping back onto the road itself. The slide on the gun snapped back. Locked. Empty.
Stillness regained the night as he leaned over, peered inside. The result was satisfying. The man lay bloodied upon the front seat. Not quite dead. But nearly so. Just a matter of time.
He walked back to the Crown Vic, pleased. Leaving the man to dispel his last breath alone.
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Wow. Nice. Short. Dark. And packs a punch.