Well, I finished it… for now. There’ll be more to tell some day, I’m sure, if I wanted to elaborate. But for now, I think I wrapped it up fairly tight. This is just a teaser, from somewhere in the middle- for more, hit up the page on my blog and read the whole thing!
Shayna’s insides quivered. The woman in front of her- for it was obviously a woman’s shape, face covered or not, and there was a glimpse of wavy brown hair underneath the hat she was wearing- was shaking, so much so that Shayna was afraid she’d be shot accidentally. The barrel of the gun was dark and staring at her from a mere three inches away, daring her to flinch just once before lights-out. She knew she didn’t have long on this Earth before this morning, but fighting cancer was more honorable a death than the move of a stupid, scared chit who obviously didn’t plan things beyond holding her hostage.
“You don’t have to shoot me,” Shayna whispered, barely audible. “I don’t know what hellhole chewed you up and spit you out, but this job isn’t worth my life, nor your going to prison- or worse. You don’t have to do this to get what you need.” So quiet, so low, so soft- yet Cathy heard each and every word. She moved her gun up and to the side, just a little, hesitating for a brief moment. She considered it- if she came clean to the cops on all the stuff she’d done, would they really just let her have her son back? Or is it really better to give Roller his money and hope her son was still alive after a little further “payment” had been received? She wasn’t sure which was worse.
Cathy saw a shadow approaching out of the corner of her eye and she stepped back further into the shadowy corner, managing to keep hold of the gun she had almost let go of in her indecision. She was still shaking, and as the shadow stepped into a room across the hall and closed the door, she fumbled with the gun. Her worst fear was coming true, she was about to be found out for sure… and as the gun hit her thumb, the cocked trigger let loose it’s payload, flying not in the direction of poor Shayna, but instead toward the coffee counter in the opposite direction, breaking one of the pots in the process.
A loud commotion ensued, with what appeared to be a stack of cases of sodas falling over on it’s own propulsion and cans of soup rolling into the viewable part of the aisle. They could hear someone grunting in the aisle a mere thirty feet away. Soon, there would be more people coming in and she’d be done for.