Marin's Dale

XIII

"Put i' down!"

Michael had his pistol fully extended, but the girl wasn't listening.

"I saaaid, pud i' downna! Nowwa!"

The girl did not know what to do. She peered to the hallway leading away from the food court and then Michael fired. The girl dropped the large serrated knife, and was cowering to her knees. Michael had the weapon fixed on her head.

"Please," she moaned, but Michael wasn't in the mood for her apologies. He grabbed her by the hair, slamming her up against the wall. She gave a smothered yelp as he held her against the wall aside the Chipotle counter. "Please," she whimpered. "I didn't mean it."

Michael didn't have time for this. He was looking for that stupid bastard that had nearly killed him. The driver had to be in here somewhere. This empty mall.

Where was that driver?

"Where i' he!?" Michael roared.

The girl shook her head. "W-who?"

Michael was losing his patience. This girl thought she could just lie her way out of this one? Did she think he was born yesterday? Michael was not stupid. He knew this girl was aiding and abetting the driver; she could feign ignorance all she wanted. Teenage girls, always thinking they could act innocent and get themselves out of trouble...

He held her mushed cheeks against the wall.

"Where i' he?"

The girl was practically in hysterics. Michael held the gun into the air, firing once, twice, thrice. God, he hated the people of Denver.

"Where i' he? Where i' he? Where i' he? Where is he?"

How many times did he have to say it? This girl clearly thought she was somethin, cuz she didn't respect the uniform at all. Michael didn't understand these prissy types, thinking they were entitled to anything. Why did people always put him in this position? He was a nice guy, he really was. But he had no choice.

Taking a second's pause, he slammed the butt of the gun into her head.

                       ###

"What are you doing?"

The police officer looked up at Tyler's question. Audrey was spilled at the cop’s feet, hands covering her face. She looked like Tyler had seen her before, several times; when she would get black-out drunk.

But the police officer was young. And Tyler recognized him. The cop was holding up his hand, his voice coming in the same discretionary tone from the night before when they had stood beside the shattered windows of the 6th street warehouse:

"Where is he?"

Tyler stared. There was red crumbles all about the man's face, and his uniform was torn, and his left eye bruised like a black hole. Fragments of glass were literally sticking out of his flesh. Tyler took a breath. The guy looked like freakin Pinhead.

Tyler knew this guy was from the night before. But he was surely fucked up. Something had attacked him. But how the hell was he still going? By now the bleed-out should have weakened him enough to the point of passing out.

"What happened to you?" Tyler heard himself say, though he didn't mean to sound nearly so caring.

The police officer looked up with his dazed eyes. The pupils were so small, they were practically gone. The iris had also decreased, much like Dirby's at Seven-Eleven. The cop grumbled something.