Out There in the Darkness by Ed Gorman Read Free Book Online Page B

spilling all over my crotch as I tried to hunch down behind the dashboard.   It was a tight fit because Neil was trying to hunch down behind the steering wheel.
    The second time, I knew what was going on: somebody was shooting at us.   Given the trajectory of the bullet, he had to be right in front of us, probably behind the two dumpsters that sat on the other side of the alley.
    â€œCan you keep down and drive this sonofabitch at the same time?”
    â€œI can try,” Neil said.
    â€œIf we sit here much longer, he’s going to figure out we don’t have guns.   Then he’s gonna come for us for sure.”
    Neil leaned over and turned on the ignition.   “I’m going to turn left when we get out of here.”
    â€œFine.   Just get moving.”
    â€œHold on.”
    What he did was kind of slump over the bottom half of the wheel, just enough so he could sneak a peek at where the car was headed.
    There were no more shots.
    All I could hear was the smooth-running Buick motor.
    He eased out of the garage, ducking down all the time.
    When he got a chance, he bore left.
    He kept the lights off.
    Through the bullet hole in the windshield I could see an inch or so of starry sky.
    It was a long alley and we must have gone a quarter block before he said, “I’m going to sit up.   I think we lost him.”
    â€œSo do I.”
    â€œLook at that frigging windshield.”
    Not only was the windshield a mess, the car reeked of spilled beer.
    â€œYou think I should turn on the headlights?”
    â€œSure,” I said.   “We’re safe now.”
    We were still crawling at maybe ten miles per hour when he pulled the headlights on.
    That’s when we saw him, silver of eye, dark of hair, crouching in the middle of the alley waiting for us.   He was a good fifty yards ahead of us but we were still within range.
    There was no place we could turn around.
    He fired.
    This bullet shattered whatever had been left untouched of the windshield.   Neil slammed on the brakes.
    Then he fired a second time.
    By now, both Neil and I were screaming and cursing again.
    A third bullet.
    â€œRun him over!” I yelled, ducking behind the dashboard.
    â€œWhat?” Neil yelled back.
    â€œFloor it!”
    He floored it.   He wasn’t even sitting up straight.   We might have gone careening into one of the garages or Dumpsters.   But somehow the Buick stayed in the alley.   And very soon it was traveling eighty-five miles per hour.   I watched the speedometer peg it.
    More shots, a lot of them now, side windows shattering, bullets ripping into fender and hood and top.
    I didn’t see us hit him but I felt us hit him, the car traveling that fast, the creep so intent on killing us he hadn’t bothered to get out of the way in time.
    The front of the car picked him up and hurled him into a garage near the head of the alley.
    We both sat up, watched as his entire body was broken against the edge of the garage, and he then fell smashed and unmoving to the grass.
    â€œKill the lights,” I said.
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œKill the lights and let’s go look at him.”
    Neil punched off the headlights.
    We left the car and ran over to him.
    A white rib stuck bloody and brazen from his side.   Blood poured from his ears, nose, mouth.   One leg had been crushed and also showed white bone.   His arms had been broken, too.
    I played my flashlight beam over him.
    He was dead, all right.
    â€œLooks like we can save our money,” I said.   “It’s all over now.”
    â€œI want to get the hell out of here.”
    â€œYeah,” I said.   “So do I.”
    We got the hell out of there.

Chapter 7
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    A month later, just as you could smell autumn on the summer winds, Jan and I celebrated our twelfth wedding anniversary.   We drove up to Lake Geneva, in Wisconsin, and stayed at a very nice hotel and rented a