Trinity Trio by George Wier

Author:George Wier [Wier, George]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 1545128200
Google: EAThDwAAQBAJ
Amazon: B06XZX89ZM
Goodreads: 34758790
Publisher: Flagstone Books
Published: 2013-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

The greatest thing about coming to a decision about something is the quiet that follows. All the questions are answered, all the doubts fade away, and the whole world waits for the storm that is to follow.

As I left the confines of the storage building, I felt a lightness of being I have seldom felt. I’d had this nagging pain in my right knee for days. I’d not told Julie about it, nor Penny, or anyone else. It had simply been there, a quiet reminder that I was getting older, that maybe I should start going a little easier on the basketball court, that quite possibly I could afford to let up a bit on the body. I noted, as I stepped from darkness into the light, an utter absence of any twinge.

“Let me borrow your shotgun,” I whispered to Tanya.

She handed it to me. “It’s loaded. I just took the safety off. It’s ready to fire.”

“Okay. Good. Get in there. Take the sack with you and get into a corner.”

Tanya ducked inside and was swallowed by the blackness.

I turned in the direction that Loraine had run—the same direction from which we’d entered the place—and started walking, twelve gauge shotgun in my left hand, .44 in my right.

They were there, no more than fifty yards ahead. No doubt there were just as many at the end of the ally behind me, but I didn’t care. It was the ones ahead of me—maybe the Sheriff, possibly the home town wrecking crew—that were about to get it.

“Hey fellahs,” I shouted.

A head poked out from behind the left-hand building. I raised the shotgun and fired in its general direction. The gun bucked upward and I let it ride up a bit before bringing it back down.

My left ear wasn’t so great any longer, but I heard someone cursing with my right. Someone stepped out from the right hand side and started to raise his arm, so I let go with the gun in my right. The fellow screamed and his gun clattered to the asphalt.

I continued walking.

I heard a whistle through the ringing in my left ear and then a distant pop, and realized they were shooting at me from behind, close on to a hundred yards back.

Turning, I squeezed off another one from the .44, and two distant figures dived away to the side.

I reached the end of the ally, both arms up, looking for someone to shoot, but no one was there.

There was motion to my right, thirty yards away, but whoever it was moved away from me as fast as his stubby legs could carry him. He seemed to be grasping his right arm. Hell, maybe I’d hit him. To my left there was another distant motion, someone running hell bent for leather, but he disappeared into the old and spent RVs, motorboats, and cars.

No Sheriff.

There was another pop behind me. Same old song.

I turned again and walked back up the ally.

When I got halfway back to the open storage locker, I thought I saw something ahead, and so squeezed off a shot with the shotgun.

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