Missing Blood by R.L. Wilson

Author:R.L. Wilson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Exquisite Novelty Publishing LLC

Chapter Five

There’s a suspended second where no one moves, and then James is on his feet, running towards the other end of the alley. I stop to ensure that the girl still has a pulse, and she does. Then I take off after him. He takes a left as I pick up my pace. But he is faster than I am, giving me no choice but to take out my gun and warn him, “Stop right there, or I’ll shoot!”

His pace does not slow for one second as he cuts back into another alley, which is crowded. It’s a disadvantage to me since I cannot shoot with so many civilians around. This also poses a problem for him as young boys in football jerseys halt his jog making a ruckus.

I pick up my pace once again and cut through the group without James noticing. I catch him by surprise when he finally passes through the crowd but finds me standing there. I point a gun at his stomach, away from onlookers, hoping it might scare him.

But no, a cruel smirk makes its way to his oddly pale face. There’s a drop of blood at one corner of his mouth, which he hastily wipes away when he notices my gaze traveling there.

Suddenly his hand comes down, hitting me square in the nose. I feel it break and the pain spreads through my face. My distraction causes him to cut through the space beside me.

I instantly turn around to follow him right into another alley. I catch up to him and grab the back of his jacket. He moves violently to get my hand off. When he manages to do so, he flings me by my hands into the wall behind me.

My entire body hits the bricks hard enough to make the entire world spin. But I cannot let him go. Tonight, I have struck gold, and I cannot let this opportunity get away from me. So, I stand up on shaky legs and point my gun at James’s retreating back, just as he’s about to leave the alley. I take aim and start shooting.

Every bullet that I shoot hits a part of him, and I make sure that I don’t miss his heart. I shoot the last bullet into his head.

The concussion I probably gained from the hit makes me lethargic as I faint. When I came to, the patrol officers are staring at me with dread.

“He’s there, at the end of the alley,” I say through the haziness.

“We’ve checked the perimeter. There’s no one here,” replies a young officer.

Well, what the hell?

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