Home of a mother, wife, writer

Fiction Friday:

Coming on to the end of this. There will only be three more scenes after this. Probably another two weeks. If you need to get caught up, you can go over here to read the rest.


As the first bullet shattered the window, Garren lunged forward. He wrapped an arm around Jonah’s body and felt it jerk against him. As soon as the man’s body hit the ground, he pulled his gun from the holster. But there were no more shots.
His breath was heaving out of him, his heart racing from the rush of adrenaline. It took him a moment to realize something was soaking into his shirt and his pants. He glanced down, saw the spreading stain of red. And stopped breathing for a second. There was no pain though. He ran a hand over his chest then down his side. Nothing. Not his blood.
That brought his gaze downward. Jonah stared up at him. But, he wasn’t blinking, and his eyes were vacant. Curses ran through Garren’s head, and his hand shook as he knelt down next to the body. He didn’t know why he bothered to check for a pulse. He knew he wouldn’t find one.
He heard a scream then steps running down the stairs. More screaming. His ears were still ringing from the gunshots, so it took a moment to realize it was Mary screaming her husband’s name. Garren stepped away from the body and held her back. He needed to make sure the house was secure, the threat gone. And he needed to check in with the marshal on duty. See how the hell that man even got that close.
He pulled on her arm. “Go upstairs. Stay with Michelle until I tell you it’s safe.”
“Jonah.” She choked on his name. Is he-? He can’t be-” She kept trailing off and shaking her head.
“Go upstairs,” he said, not willing to answer her question.
But before she could do that, the door crashed open. Garren heard the curses in his head but didn’t know if they passed his lips. He raised his gun again as a man stepped through. “Stop where you are,” he said, taking a step forward and reaching behind him for his handcuffs. “You’re under arrest.”
The man didn’t even seem to hear him. He kept coming, and Garren dropped the hand from his cuffs, leaving them on his belt. He tightened his grip on the gun. “I said stop.”
But, the man was already tightening his finger on the trigger of his gun. Garren released a breath and squeezed off a shot. It took the man in the chest just a moment before two shots came from the man’s gun. Mary dropped to the ground with hardly a sound, blood spreading over the front of her dress. Garren choked on a breath, but he moved over to the gunman first. There was still a flutter of a pulse. Not dead. Not yet. That wouldn’t last long if he didn’t get an ambulance here soon though.
Where the hell was the marshal?
He moved over to Mary. He needed to see if she was still alive, then he would call that ambulance. He knew before he’d even put his fingers to the side of her neck though. There was nothing. No breath, no pulse. No heartbeat. He hung his head and swore.
“You killed them!”
He hadn’t even heard Michelle’s steps on the stairs. But, there she stood staring down at him, hate darkening her eyes. “Michelle, I didn’t-”
“You did,” she screamed again. “You did this. It’s all your fault. You hated them. It’s your fault.”
Even from there, he could see the tears streaming down her face. He wanted to brush away the words she said in grief, but some of them hit home. It was his fault. He should have done a better job of protecting them. “Calm down, Michelle,” he said, moving over to her. “I have to call for an ambulance and report this to my superiors.”
“Why? They’re dead. They don’t need an ambulance.”
“He’s not,” he said, looking over to the gunman.
“Then, let him die. He killed them.”
“I can’t do that,” he said, reaching for his phone. “It’s not for me, or you, to play judge and jury. He’ll pay for this if he lives though.”
“I hope he doesn’t.” She spat the words out.
Garren wasn’t even sure what to say to that. So, he called in the ambulance then moved into the kitchen. He stood in the doorway where he could keep an eye on Michelle and still be afforded some privacy. “Marshal Berenak,” he said when the other man answered. “It’s Officer Alexander. We have a problem here.”

Comments on: "Fiction Friday:" (1)

  1. […] story is almost at its end. You can catch up on it here and here(last […]

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