Trick or Treat
Gray pulled into
the parking lot and skidded to a stop, the brakes on the old pickup screeching.
“Stay in the truck
and keep the engine running,” Todd snapped. He slammed the door and headed for
the liquor store entrance, his brother Tim close behind.
“Hey, wait, I
gotta take a leak,” Gray shouted.
“Just stay there,
damn it!” Todd barked over his shoulder as he and his brother barged through the
front door, stumbling drunk.
It made sense for
Gray to keep the motor running on the beat up ’51 Ford, twenty years old with a
sticky float in the carburetor. Shut it down and he’d have a hassle getting it
started again. That didn’t change the fact that he had to go—bad! There was a dumpster
at the side of the building, just a few steps away. He opened the door and ran
around the large metal box, unzipped his pants and let fly.
POP! POP! The sound came
from inside the store. POP! Again. What
in the hell? The bell attached to the door rang wildly, followed by Tim and
Todd’s shouts.
“Come on, get in
the damn truck!”
“Ow, my leg, Todd,
he shot me in the leg!”
“Just get the hell
in. Hey, where’s Gray? I told that sonofabitch to stay here.”
“Ow, my leg—”
“Did that bastard
take off? I’ll kill him!”
Doors slammed, the engine roared, and wheels screamed
as the Ford tore out of the parking lot. Gray zipped his pants and peered
around the dumpster. Jeez, what just
happened? He walked around the corner of the building, along the front of
the store, the plate glass window full of old Nixon-Agnew stickers. He pulled the door open. Behind the counter,
flat on his back, a man stared at the ceiling, a neat hole in his forehead,
blood pooling on the dirty linoleum floor. Oh
my God, they shot the clerk! Shot him dead. The man held a gun in his right hand. He’d fought back and lost.
Gray recognized the dead man. Holy shit, it’s
old man Antonelli. He couldn’t remember the man’s first name. Gray looked
around. The store was empty, but it wouldn’t be long until somebody walked in,
found the body, and called the cops. And who would believe Gray? A foster kid,
no parents, no family. Just a foster kid—with a record. He had to get out of
there…
_____
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