Double Shootout

Any closet novelists, short story writers, script-writers or prose poets out there?

Double Shootout

Postby RCJames » Sun Oct 16, 2016 7:24 pm

He lit his first cigarette of the night and stepped out into the soggy darkness of southern winter. About the time Darrell left the trailer park, the incident that would shape his day at work began. Twin brothers, with identical strawberry blond hair from Valdosta, South Georgia, had walked inside the Super Targett store and gone back to the accounting room. The only guard in the store called the sheriff. The dispatcher told Darrell to proceed with lights but no siren. Billy Ray Campbell, his partner, 5'5", bald headed and a toupee with attitude, was riding shotgun in the car. Now he was shouting at Darrell, "slow down man, I don' wannadie.!"

Traffic lights flashing yellow, Darrell was just blowing through them at 80.
He was the first out of the car and asked, "Where you want us?" "Take your unit to the end of the building, leave the flashers on, and wait in the ditch."

Two county cops were in the ditch 15-20 yards from them, and Darrell thought about trajectories, and Billy Ray's excitability. He had his gun out trained on the door in front of him, thinking to himself "I can't believe this is happening. I can't believe this is happening."

Then the twins came out through the back walk-through onto the loading ramp steps.
The 1st held the door for his brother pushing a cart full of bank bags.
Both ran down the ramp holding Browning 9 MM automatics
with 14 shot clips welded back to back with extra clips in their pockets.
They came toward Darrell and Billy Ray jumped up, "Halt Police!"
Spotlights flooded the area with gold lights.They started shooting but couldn't see.
Darrell grabbed Billy Ray and jerked him back down, cops on the right firing.

Darrell hit one in the hip, with everybody firing, the other brother grabbed 2 bags out of the cart and made it to the woods. The bullet had hit his brother’s pelvis, shattered it
and a leg bone. Now Darrell felt the wind blowing cold, neither of them dressed for it. Back at the sheriff's office they filled out reports in triplicate.

Back home in the trailer he fixed a scotch, and walked to his arm chair, with his gun still strapped on.
Halfway through the scotch the trailer shook with a KERWHAMM! He jumped up,
pulled his 41 out of the holster and fired. Nerves taut as piano wire, he opened the back door. An 11-12 year old kid carrying his bike was running towards the woods.
The bullet hole in the trailer was 3' above ground, the size and shape of Darrell's heart.
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