another short story

She counted to three and closed her eyes, wishing that she knew what path her life was going to take now that she had actually left. So many times she had threatened to walk out on him, tired of his abusive ways. She had a full tank of gas, his debit card, 40 bucks in her pocket, and all of her clothes packed in trash bags. She did not have much, but she had her freedom. Freedom was worth the sacrifices she was making, she had to tell herself that over and over. All she had were her hopes and dreams, which were evolving by the moment as she counted the telephone pole separating her from the miserable life she ran away from.

Meanwhile, he had come home from work early to discover that she was gone. He was mad as Hell that she dared defy him, and that she had walked out on him. He went into their room, reaching into the nightstand next to the bed they had shared for 23 years. He grabbed the .45 and box of bullets out of the drawer and slapped the picture of them to the floor, shattering the glass from the frame. He turned and ran out of the room, his mind erupting with fury over what she had done to him. He jumped into his truck, and the tires threw gravel all over the side of the house as he spun out of the driveway. He would find her, and make her pay with her life.

Many miles away, she stopped to get someting to eat at a roadside diner. It was amusing to her that it was one of the old time diners, much like the one that she told him 23 years before that she was pregnant with his baby. She remembered those days when she was blindly in love, long before he destroyed her self esteem by years of abuse. The last of their three children were gone from the house now, her precious baby girl now resting in a cold grave because of a drunk driver. The death of her only daughter had set the wheels in motion for her to run away from the evil. He could not be bothered to comfort her when she needed him most, he was too busy blaming her for letting their daughter go out on a Saturday night with that Jennings boy. He told her that it should have been her that got crushed in a head-on wreck with the drunk teenager. As she stared at her chipped coffee cup, she wondered where she would spend the night.

He drove the route he expected her to take, the one that would eventually lead to Tulsa. A thousand thoughts rushed through his mind, wondering why that bitch walked out on the best thing that ever happened to her. He had given her everything she could have wanted, and she showed her appreciation by being an ungrateful little whore. He would find her if it took the rest of his life...... but wait, there is her car ahead!!! He could not believe she was stupid enough to stop! He pulled into the lot and got out of his truck, tucking his pistol into his waistband and pulling his jacket down over it. He had her right where he wanted her.

She looked up, and saw him walking into the front door. He walked across the diner to the last table where she sat, and yelled at her wanting to know what the Hell was her problem walking out on him. She looked down at her coffee, seeing her hazel eyes in the reflection. As he reached for his gun, she brought her hand up from under the table. She fired the .357 six times at him, hitting him in the chest with the first five shots, the last bullet hitting him next to his nose. The hollowpoints really did their damage swiftly, as he fell to the floor getting one shot off, which slammed into the framed print of "Boulevard of Broken Dreams" on the wall. She laid the gun on the table, and waited for the police to come for her. She was finally free from him, and was in another small town where his family did not run the political machine. Her new life of hopes and dreams began at that moment, the moment she liberated herself.

The police arrived within minutes,the smell of gunfire still in the air. They questioned her about what happened, and as was their practice, she was arrested and taken downtown to get to the bottom of things. In reality, they felt that she would be safer in jail given her recently deceased husband's family. She knew this was going to happen, and had chosen the town she stopped in as a result. She knew she would get fair treatment there, and that justice would prevail.

Meanwhile, word got back to their hometown about what happened. Her two sons left and drove to see her in jail to see what happened. They drove the miles in silence, wondering what finally caused her to snap. There were so many questions they had, but they knew that it was likely they would never know the entire story. Both of them knew there had been years of abuse as both of them had been handled very rough by their father too. But he was their father, and they loved him.

She explained that she took the gun into the diner because she was afraid of him finding her. The detective asked why she just did not go to the authorities if she was so scared for her life. She told him of all the years that his family had run politics in their small town, and that nothing ever went forward when she filed charges. His family always managed to grease the right palms and the complaints would always get dismissed. She felt that there was no other way to be free from him unless she walked away and started over anew.

His brother had been elected Mayor the year before, and their cousin was the Sheriff. They got together with a bottle of single malt, and conspired with how to get that bitch for what she did to their kin. Nobody spilled the blood of their family without paying the consequences. With the pinko liberal lawyers out there, they were convinced she was going to walk away scott free. There was no way she would live to see another day when she walked out of that courtroom a free woman, they had to have vengeance.

Her sons arrived at the jail to see their mom. She hugged them tightly, and apologized for taking the life of their father. They both told her that they knew it was self defense, but they wanted to know why she left without telling them goodbye. What if she had gotten away, would they ever have seen her again? Would she have vanished into thin air and left them and her grandchild behind? They had already lost their sister, there was no way they were going to lose their mom too.

The plan was finalized back home, and the contract was given to a man referred to them by a distant relative in Kansas City. The mood was somber as they discussed the method that was to be used, and the money was gathered to pay for the job. They found out her hearing with the magistrate was the next morning, and she would walk out a free woman on bond. They worked out the details, and the man left Kansas City to scout the courthouse in Oklahoma. Would they be successful in getting her when she left court? Time would tell if it was on their side or not.


She talked to her sons for a while and told them there was something they needed to get immediately from a lockbox at the bank next door to the building they were sitting in. She had worked as a bookkeeper for years for the family businesses, and apparently had some evidence stored away that would put the political machine into the ground. She wanted his family to know that she had enough to put them all away for the rest of their lives. She hoped it would be enough to keep her alive when she was released.

The hired gun arrived from Kansas City and set up a stillwatch on the courthouse from an abandoned building across the street. He sat in the silent dark room and watched the courthouse, waiting for the clear shot he needed. He unpacked his H&K PSG-1 sniper rifle, and checked the sights and loaded it with the deadly .308 Winchester ammunition. He set up his tripod, and waited for the moment that would grow his bank account by one hundred thousand dollars.

Her sons went to their uncle to discuss the evidence that would damage the machine. He listened to them tell him what there was, and that copies of it were in the hands of the trusted in case she turned up dead. He sat in silence, his rage building that his own flesh and blood were blackmailing him. He asked them why he should spare her life after killing their father. They told him that they were willing to do whatever it took to save her. He picked up the phone, and called his brother and cousin to come to have an emergency meeting.

She went with the deputies to the courthouse through a tunnel from the jail, a safety measure that had been installed years earlier after the Oklahoma City bombing. She sat in the courtroom, praying that her sons had made her in-laws see that she needed to live. She came before the magistrate, and testified to her intent to return if and when asked. The magistrate, having recieved a few threats about the situation from the neighboring county, called for a recess to consider her being released.

Meanwhile, back in her hometown her sons sat in silence outside the conference room where the meeting was taking place. They heard shouting and cussing coming from the room, and prayed that the decision would be made to save her life. Time seemed to stand still, and they wondered if they had made it in time before she was released from cusody. They waited with baited breath for a decision, and prayed that it was the right one. They had lost their father and sister, and loved their mother far too much to lose her this way.

The judge came back into the courtroom, and sat down to give his decision. He determined that she did not seem to be a flight risk, and okayed her release. The sheriff informed her that her car was parked outside of the courthouse, and he handed her her belongings. She thanked him for his courtesy, and walked out of the front door of the courthouse amongst the crowds of people and reporters. She walked down the steps, breaking away from the crowd as she headed towards her car.

Across the street, from a dark window several stories above the ground, he raised the rifle and looked through the scope. If only he could get a clear shot, why the hell were the people crowded around her like that? He tracked her through the scope, his finger on the trigger of the German precision killing machine. There she was, the crosshairs perfectly framing her beautiful face, a pity this kill would be, but he had a job to do. His cell phone began to ring, but he could not stop now, the timing was perfect as she broke away from the crowd. He shifted his weight to prepare for the recoil, and he started to squeeze the trigger.

The recoil from the rifle was expected, but still startled the hired assassin. He threw the rifle down and ran down the stairs of the building. He bolted out of the side entrance and jumped into a waiting car with an associate. He hoped that the bullet had found its mark, and that he just added some more money to his savings. He was tired of this job, too many emotions starting to seep into the killing field. This was his last job for the Kansas City mob, he hoped they would let him retire.

The window of her car shattered, and she dropped to the ground and tried to roll under it for protection. The crowd of reporters following her dived for cover too from the unseen gunman. They all laid on the ground waiting for more gunfire to ring out. After a few minutes, everybody started getting up and moving around. They were certain that the gunman was gone, and they ran towards the car where she still laid on the ground motionless.

Back in her hometown, they finally got through to the hired gun. He told them it was too late, that the deed was already done. He had ended her life just as he had been instructed to, and the money had better be wired to his account. If not, there would be some more killings, and these would be for free. He was asked if he was positive that she was dead, and he said that he had seen the window behind her shatter. He knew the bullet had found its mark, and had obliterated her vital organs. He had not gone for a head shot with her because he had not been able to bring himself to ruin her beautiful face for her family to pay their last respects. A head shot would have meant a closed casket, and she was too pretty for that.

Her sons listened to their uncle as he spoke on the phone and were horrified to hear the stress in his voice. They were afraid that his phone call had been too late to save her life. They wondered what their next move would be, and if their lives were safe now. They had pushed the envelope all the way with their relatives, they wondered if the threat of exposure was enough to keep them alive for another day. The hope that they had for their mother was shattered, and they were now all alone without any family since their parents and sister were all dead.

There was blood everywhere, and she wasn't moving at all as the crowd got closer to her car. Somebody called 911 to get help for her, but knew that it was probably too late to save her. The chances of survival from a sniper were slim indeed, and the reporter had seen far too much of this when he covered the war last year. They were afraid to pull her motionless body from under the car, afraid that if she was alive they would make things worse. They did the right thing and waited for help to arrive. A siren wailed in the distance, the ambulance and help they felt she didn't really need getting closer......................................