Chapter Three
Denny waited for Todd growling with more impatience by the minute. He couldn’t help but notice a motorhome at one end of the parking lot. Through its large windows on the front and side, he saw what appeared to be two men. They both were holding onto something. He couldn’t quite make it out, something long and dark. His mind raced.
What are those things, Guns? Well, maybe hunting rifles? It could be, but you don’t see hunters around the city much. Nah, it can’t be. Why would they …? This is what I get for watching too much TV. My mind has finally flipped on me.
A moment later, he knew they were rifles. Definitely, rifles pointed in his direction.
A shot rang out, and then another and another. The bullets struck the cars on either side of him, but he froze stone-cold solid, in shock, completely motionless for an interminable moment. When Denny regained his wits, he dropped the guitar case he carried and dove down between the cars. But as he ducked, he caught a glimpse of the blood splattered inside one of the cars. When he saw the two bodies, his heart began pounding like a locomotive at full steam.
Denny pitched to the ground, face-down, landing hard.
Another round zinged by his head, ricocheting off the pavement near his face and just barely missing a tire. The bullet left a mark as it hit the tar-covered asphalt with a ferocious sound.
Another shot rang out as Denny lay pinned to the ground, trying desperately to stay alive.
At that unlikely moment, Todd Coleman pulled up in his small green Toyota, a grin stretched across his face, unaware he was caught in a deadly crossfire.
“Hey, buddy, what’s happening?” Todd hollered.
“Get down. Get your head down!”
“What do you mean, get down? You all right?” Todd replied, oblivious to what he had just stumbled into.
“No! I’m not all right. Somebody’s shooting at me!” Denny shouted.
“No way,” Todd said.
“Ok, be an idiot. Get yourself shot. See if I care!”
He glanced again at the bodies in the car as another bullet whizzed past. The sudden shot and the panic on Denny’s face told Todd he wasn’t kidding around. Denny scrambled to his feet, still crouching. He scuttled toward Todd’s car. More bullets flew. Todd slammed the car into reverse to get closer.
“Open the door! Open the freakin’ door!” Denny screamed. He leaned hard against the side until the door flew open, and he lunged toward the passenger seat. Todd grabbed at him, dragging Denny into the car as another bullet blasted out Todd’s rear window. The door slammed shut. Todd rammed the transmission into gear. The car squealed across the pavement as they sped north across the lot, away from the snipers.
They quickly disappeared into the city traffic, dazed but alive.
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