Property of the Mafia

[18] Vengeance

Take a deep breath, Linette. You can't die here.

As if destiny was trying to spite me, another lid on top of the dumpster rolled off, landing onto the ground with a clatter, breaking the silence around me. My heart stopped.

Gulping, I looked through the narrow crack between the dumpster and the crack, watching as a large shadow on the sidewalk outside the alleyway became clearer and more defined on the adjacent wall.

He was coming.

I saw his figure at the end of the alleyway, his shoulders heaving up and down with bated breath. He abruptly turned towards the alleyway, the whites of his unconcealed eye flashing as it reflected a stray beam of light. His expression seemed frenetic as he trudged down the alleyway, eyeing the walls and surroundings with hysteria.

"Hey. I know you're here. Why don't you just make this easier for yourself and come out already so I can f*cking kill you?" His voice suddenly rose to a degree of madness, despite his monotonous tone.

I clamped my hand over my mouth, trying to muffle my heavy breathing.

Like hell I'd come come out if you say something like that.

"Oh. But don't worry. I'll make sure I do this as quickly as possible. I'm a merciful man." He continued darkly.

Rubbish.

Just by his expression, I could tell he had something terrifying in mind for me. Torture would just be the start of it. Not a very comforting  thought in this situation, either.

I pinched the top of my hand, trying to keep myself alert. This was no time to be zoning out!

Okay. First. What made Tarra so incredibly terrifying? The freaking machine gun strapped over his shoulder, and the belt of ammo strapped around his waist that was practically calling out my name.

If I somehow got rid of his machine gun... he would be much less of a threat. It didn't look that heavy compared to some heavy-duty artillery, and only had one barrel. Thank goodness.

I almost screamed when Tarra suddenly flung the dumpster lid open and fired a generous stream of bullets at the insides. He only examined the insides after he had finished firing. I shuddered.

Yeah, 'merciful'. Completely.

I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to curl up and take up as minimal space as possible. I  desperately wished I could become invisible, though my efforts were obviously futile.

Tarra took a few steps forward beside the dumpster, cocking it over his shoulder as he looked around. The thick smell of gunpowder wafted in my direction from the barrel of his gun.

All that concealed me were a couple of garbage bags and lids. He would only need to fire for ten seconds until I was completely obliterated.

I took another deep breath, trying to soothe the quivering in my fingers. It was now or never. I had no idea if this was going to work, but at the very least it would keep him distracted for a while.

Through the tiny opening between the collection of junk on top of me, I spotted Tarra looming over me, staring down at the pile or rubble with suspicion. He took a step close and held out his gun to prod a bag next to me. He poked it so hard that the bag ripped open, causing a trail of trash gushed out onto the ground beside him. Thank god that was not me. I shivered.

Tarra nestled the gun over his shoulder, readjusting the uncomfortable heavyweight as he aimed once more at the pile of junk and, well, me. I gulped.