Dana C. Kabel makes his TKnC debut with a gritty little number. I've enjoyed Dana's work, having published him before, and I'm sure you will too.....
EVERYTHING HAPPENS SO FAST WHEN I'M SHOOTING METH
Dana C. Kabel
“I don’t have time for that right now.” I’m peeking out the window under the blanket that I nailed up for cover.
“Come on, Jay. I’m so wet. Don’t you know who we ripped off?”
I’m checking the door. One, two, three locks all engaged.
“Yeah, I know who we ripped off and that’s why there isn’t time.”
I jam a chair under the handle like it’s going to stop the ruthless motherfuckers that are coming for us. FUCK!
My skin is prickling and I want more meth, but my fixings are in the other room. Bobby took them with him. Said he was cutting me off for a while. He’s making the calls. Guarding the shit. Securing a safe house.
I feel so fucked because we ARE NOT out of the woods.
Stole thirty bags of rocks from the biggest dealer in town and Cherry is the only one relaxed about it. Relaxed hell…she wants to fuck.
“Come on,” she says. “It will calm you down, baby. Come over here and I’ll suck your cock.”
Damn, I’m sweating it. We shouldn’t have taken the shit or killed Razorwire. What the fuck kinda nickname is that, anyway? When Razorwire’s boys find him, they’re gonna know who did him and they’re gonna come right to us, guns blazing.
There’s a knock on the door and the handle rattles and my breath is caught in my throat. They’re here and they are going to fucking kill us.
Another knock and I pull the chair out of the way and pick up the shotgun leaning against the wall.
Cherry is up off the couch with her tits falling out of her open shirt.
“No,” she says, “too much noise. Use this.” She has a silenced nine millimeter tucked between the cushions of the couch. No time to wonder where she got it or what she was planning to do with it.
I take the gun. It feels good in my sweaty hands.
I take a quick look through the peephole, hoping that I’m not going to be on the receiving end of a bullet through the eye.
“What do you see?” Cherry whispers.
I see dark, then red, then dark again. A red hat. Someone with a red hat is leaning against the door and bouncing off it impatiently.
“Come on. Open the fucking door already,” I hear him say.
“A guy with a hat,” I whisper.
“It’s them. Shoot through the door,” Cherry says.
“What if it’s not?”
“Who the fuck else would it be? Shoot them through the door and we’ll make a run for it. Hurry, before they start shooting first.”
There was a louder, pounding knock. I put the end of the silenced gun up to the peephole and pull the trigger. PAP PAP PAP. A loud thump. Like someone falling down dead on their own shoes.
I look through the smoking hole and see the other side of the hallway.
“Open it,” Cherry says, looking more excited than when she wanted to screw.
Bobby comes out of the other room as I unfasten the last lock and open the door.
“What the fuck is going on out here?”
I pull the door in so far, until I see a pair of legs with white sneakers that have an alarmingly bright pattern of blood splatter on them.
Down the hall another apartment door opens. The fat neighbor with the leopard print top and the lit cigarette hanging out of her mouth gasps. A man calls out of the apartment behind her.
“Edna, what’s going on out there? If that ain’t the fucking pizza boy, I’m calling the place.”
Edna screams. The pizza boy’s blood is splattered all over the wall, the floor, and the pizza boxes.
“Wow, like fuck,” Cherry says over my shoulder. Death gets her hot.
Footsteps echo up from the stairwell. Sounds like several pairs of heavy combat boots clomping at breakneck speed. I might as well have used the shotgun.
Bio: Dana C. Kabel’s stories have appeared in A Twist of Noir, Black Heart Magazine, Darkest Before The Dawn, The Flash Fiction Offensive, Muzzleflash, Mysterical-E, Out of the Gutter, Shotgun Honey, Powder Flash Burn, and Yellow Mama. He blogs at www.thenonstopbullet.blogspot.com