The Ongoing Adventures of Stupendous Girl!

Götterdämmerung (Part 5 of 7) – Page 2 23 Oct 2009

Lewis swore at himself. Hesitation was the enemy of resolution, and it was his own hesitancy that had him sucking poisoned bursts of air into lungs that felt as if they’d drop out of his chest at any moment. His rifle, slung across his back, butted painfully into his ribs with each loping step.

Damned if she couldn’t run. He’d been sure she would have dropped by now when he started the chase.

The shot on John had gone perfectly. Though he’d had gory fantasies of how the killing would look, John’s smug face turned into a gory pulp in an instant, he was proud to have stuck to what he’d always planned and trained to do. Aim for the central mass, remain calm, take your time, fire accurately. This, he had read, was the key – if you were going to shoot someone the most important thing to do was to ensure you hit them, then worry about whether the shot had killed them or just incapacitated them. And the best way to make sure you hit was to aim for the biggest and most central target – the torso. TV shows and movies spread a lot of myths about shooting at people, but all his research had said the same thing – make sure you hit what you aim at first and foremost.

The problem was, he’d expected to only have to make one kill. In his mind, as he’d seen it play out a thousand times, he’d shoot John, incapacitate or kill him (it didn’t matter at first), run down to Irene to explain all that had happened. After the shock wore off she’d be thrilled to see him – she could help him finish off John and get rid of his body, if that needed doing – and then they’d run away together, just get in the car and never look back. So when it turned out she was complicit, that he had to kill her too… she’d been right there, hovering over John, making an excellent target. He hadn’t been preparing for months, though, hadn’t seen the shot over and over in his mind’s eye.

So he’d hesitated. His finger hovered around the trigger, but couldn’t press it, not until she got up and started to run. Then, shook into hasty action, he’d managed to fire off one desultory and inaccurate shot, doing nothing more than kicking up some sand not particularly close to her. She was too fast, he wasn’t set…

…and there was nothing left to do but give chase. It would come down, Lewis figured, to whoever lost the will to run first. If he thought it was going to be him he’d drop to one knee, steady himself as much as he could, and fire one last shot at a rapidly departing Irene before he doubled back to where he’d parked and beat as hasty an exit as possible. But if it was her that stopped, or stumbled, or gave up first, then he would have the terrible vengeance which was his due.

Page 1 | Page 2