On the Run by M Zeigler (short story to read TXT) đź“–
- Author: M Zeigler
Book online «On the Run by M Zeigler (short story to read TXT) 📖». Author M Zeigler
“What was that all about?” Chelsea investigates the minute I put the phone down, I shake my head with displeasure before answering, this whole night is turning out entirely bizarre.
“Get this; I gave the Chinese food you ordered to a stray dog outside the tour bus tonight. The dog started having seizures; Miss. Fletcher found him and took him to the vet. They tested what the dog ate, it came back positive for Strychnine. And if that’s not weird enough, when I arrived at the bus after the concert; the door was left open and the lights were off. When I left to meet everyone here, someone had opened the door again, something off is happening.” After explaining the situation to everyone at the table, Marcus’s police face comes back to haunt me causing chills to run up my suddenly tense arms. It takes an unbelievable amount of will power not to jump up and run caused by that one look alone.
“Son, I’m gonna ask you this one time and you best answer me straight. Have you been tampering with the wrong crowd again?” Marcus’s words are stern, cold, and warning, not that I can blame him, twelve years ago he was arresting me constantly for getting into trouble. He’s actually the officer who arrested me over the whole Moonshine disaster.
“No sir, I have not been up to no good. I’m just as shocked as you are.” I reply respectfully and truthfully, Marcus looks me straight in the eyes searching for dishonesty. When Marcus detects no traces of a lie he puts his detective face on, then he takes one last bite of his dinner before abruptly moving to his feet jarring his chair enough to send it stumbling back with a clatter.
“We best get over to that tour bus and find out what’s going on!” Marcus announces rather loudly, I look down at my untouched dinner then at Marcus expressionistically being as pathetic as I can. “You can eat later.” Marcus says tossing three crisp hundred dollar bills down on the table. With the money for our tab laid out on the table, he starts to walk around to my side of the table, as he passes me up he grabs my upper left arm intending to drag me out of the quaint overly priced diner. The action forces me to stand up so as not to tip the chair over with me in it. What Marcus doesn’t realize is that I am not leaving this diner without my food! So I do resist him just long enough that at the last possible second I manage to grab a handful of fries and my burger before he’s hauling me out the door.
At the threshold of the door I cram the entire handful of fries into my mouth, then, outside the door Marcus halts and looks back at me. “You need a ride back?” He asks all I can do is start shaking my head no; my mouth is way to full of food to speak at this point. Just the thought of talking with my mouth full I have the fear of my mother suddenly appearing to lecture me about my manners.
“Alright, be careful on your way back.” Marcus warns, with his parting words fresh in my mind I start back towards the parking garage that I just barely remember parking in. Marcus zips by a moment later in his vintage Porsche heading back towards the tour bus, as for me, I’m taking my time getting to my bike, I’m going to enjoy this burger even if it kills me. And after tonight’s news, that is very well possible, but at least I died a happy man, eating a thick beef burger piled with bacon, chicken, and lamb. The thick sliced meet is coated thick with onions, lettuce, cheese, and a fair amount of barbeque sauce. Like I said, even if this burger kills me, I died one happy and content man.
After my fourth bite I glance around at my surroundings, I suddenly have the distinct feeling someone is watching me, which really shouldn’t surprise me. I am famous, so there are probably fans around here someplace stalking me or maybe someone is looking to see if I’m actually Barrette Green. Sure as day, there is someone following me, two someone’s to be exact.
Both figures are clad in dark black pants, and black shirts, both wear black hooded jackets, one is wearing a ski mask, the other is wearing a pair of sunglasses. Either of these attires would be completely acceptable if it were maybe snowing outside or still daylight in the very least. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to realize that these men are watching me and they aren’t excited fans trying for an autograph, it also means that I’m in some serious trouble.
“Son of a...” I growl to myself, the creepy characters are crossing the street towards me which means I still don’t get to finish eating. My burger is quickly wrapped back up and then abandoned to the pavement; I reach back for my gun only to realize that I left it at the tour bus. My knife is in the pocket of another pair of pants, I’m out numbered two to one, and these guys walk like trained assassins. So option three has me retrieving my burger that was saved from the dirty pavement by its wrapper and running for the parking garage. The moment I start to run the guys crossing the street start running after me.
Half way into the lot I hear gun shots ring out, a bullet breezes by my shoulder embedding easily into the cement wall ahead of me.
Realizing that these two guys mean business I take a sharp right and dive into a hollowed out support pillar outcropping, the open side is well guarded by a massive black SUV so I should be okay here.
As predicted the two men chasing after me breeze right on by without even thinking to stop and look for me here. For a moment I’m relieved that I’ve escaped, except the theory I escaped is blown clean out the window when the door to the SUV opens and out steps a guy that matches me in height but not in size or strength. He takes a swing at me without hesitation, I duck causing the thug to punch the corner of the wall behind me, when he swings his hand back it’s with a pained shout.
I become vertical once more and slam my fist into the side of his head further adding to the pain he’s enduring. The many heavy rings on my hand aid my approach to knock the guy out, as hoped for the goons eyes roll back in his head and his form slams into to the pavement unconscious. With this guy unconscious I am given ample time to find my bike before those other two gooks come back for round two.
Deciding it’s safer, faster, and quieter I bolt for the nearest set of stairs, their spaced high enough that I can easily clear four steps at a time, which lands me where I need to be within a few seconds. Someone must be in heaven looking out for me because when I reach the top step I see my bike parked right where I left her, less than six feet from the stairs. This also means that whoever is after me can’t possibly know that much about me as a person otherwise the bike wouldn’t be here. They would know that the only Harley in the structure belongs to me and that I would run back to my bike to escape.
“He ran up those stairs!” I hear the moron from the SUV shout; he’s likely talking to the guys who were chasing me to begin with. I waste no time in straddling my custom bike and starting it up, at this point I could care less about my helmet, besides I’ve ridden without it before. In fact, due to this situation I drop my helmet to the pavement and roll the bike back then finally burn rubber towards the ramped back exit of the parking structure. A few more pot shots fire off in my direction I’ve already moved far enough away that their low caliber weapons are not going to hit me.
Outside the parking structure I find myself breaking several street laws just about immediately, first by blowing through a red light beyond the street Bella Dona’s is on and then cutting off several drivers on the road. Now as I look back at the road from my quick scan for a cop, I see two stop signs, another stop light, then last but not least a cop. Deciding that I can easily out run and out maneuver the police officer I blow right through both stop signs. The cop see’s what I’ve just done and instantly clicks his lights on letting me know he’s about to try to pull me over.
However the officer of the law makes the mistake of assuming I’m stopping at the stop light that has just turned red, instead I throttle the bike knowing that cop won’t dare move in front of the traffic that is already on the gas pedal. My idea to run the light is a dangerous one and I would do no such thing if it weren’t for the fact I have three people trying to kill me, in recent years I’ve been good about following driving laws and laws in general.
Even though I broke more laws than I care to admit I realize I’ve safely made it away from those goons and I’m three blocks away from the multi level parking lot. Two more ignored stop signs later I find myself turning into the hidden entrance of the stars only parking lot and find Marcus’s car is parked where I was earlier, feeling a little aggravated that he took my spot; I take his abandoned parking place with arrogance like I’ve just won some childish match.
Looking around for anymore danger, I spot Roy, and Marcus frantically running my direction, their eyes scan my form crucially as if looking for injuries. I don’t suppose they know what happened back at the parking garage?
“What happened out there, Barrette? The sheriff’s department just received a call that shots were fired from the parking structure not far from the restaurant!” Marcus hollers loud enough to wake the sleeping neighbors, I know this because a few tour bus lights turn on and some of the stars inside peer out their windows to see what is happening out here. Thankfully most of the neighbors are friends of mine that are also in the industry so they won’t be to upset about the yelling.
“There were three hit men trying to take me out.” I reply nonchalantly walking by Roy, and Marcus with my sights set on the tour bus that is still parked at the far end of the car parking area. Parked just outside the fence surrounding the entire lot I can see red and blue lights flashing giving me some inclination that there is at least one patrol car still here whose officer is waiting to speak to me.
“Oh my goodness, are you okay?” Chelsea’s terrified shriek brings two officers to attention, they watch as the short, scared blonde run up to me. I stand still as Chelsea tugs at the front of my leather jacket looking me over for any gunshot wounds or other injuries. Apparently she finds nothing that
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