Chapter 31: Shoot to Kill
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"Gimme,” she said, and held her hand out. I took the gun and put it in her palm. I bent down and picked up a rusty can. "Take it easy now,” I said. "It's loaded in all five. I'll go over and set this can in that square opening in the middle of that big plastic wheel. See?” I pointed. She ducked her head, delighted. "That's about ten metres. Don't start shooting until I get back beside you. Okay?” I went back around the sump and set up the can in the middle of the wheel. It made a swell target. If she missed the can, which she was certain to do, she would probably hit the wheel. That would stop a small slug completely. However, she wasn't going to hit even that. I went back towards her around the sump. When I was about three metres from her, at the edge of the sump, she showed me all her sharp little teeth and brought the gun up and started to hiss. I stopped dead, the sump water stagnant at my back. "Stand there, you son of a bitch,” she said. The gun pointed at my chest. Her hand seemed to be quite steady. The hissing sound grew louder and her face had the scraped bone look. Aged, deteriorated, become animal, and not a nice animal. I laughed at her. I started to walk towards her. I saw her small finger tighten on the trigger and grow white at the tip. I was about two metres away from her when she started to shoot. The sound of the gun made a sharp slap, without body, a brittle crack in the sunlight. I didn't see any smoke. I stopped again and grinned at her. She fired twice more, very quickly. I don't think any of the shots would have missed. There were five in the little gun. She had fired four. I rushed her. I didn't want the last one in my face, so I swerved to one side. She gave it to me quite carefully, not worried at all. I think I felt the hot breath of the powder blast a little. I straightened up. "My, but you're cute," I said. Her hand holding the empty gun began to shake violently. The gun fell out of it. Her mouth began to shake. Her whole face went to pieces. Then her head screwed up towards her left ear and froth showed on her lips. Her breath made a whining sound. She swayed. I caught her as she fell. She was already unconscious. I pried her teeth open with both hands and stuffed a wadded handkerchief in between them. It took all my strength to do it. I lifted her up and got her into the rickshaw, then went back for the gun and dropped it into my pocket. I climbed in, kicked the bot to life, and drove back the way we had come along the rutted road, out of the gateway, back up the hill and so home. Carmen lay crumpled in the corner of the carriage, without motion. I was half-way up the drive to the house before she stirred. Then her eyes suddenly opened wide and wild. She sat up. "What happened?” she gasped. "Nothing. Why?” "Oh, yes it did,” she giggled, "I wet myself.” "They always do,” I said. She looked at me with a sudden sick speculation and began to moan.
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Part 2