Page 84 of Small Town Hunter

Bingo.

She shows me the screen. One Moonlight Abeline Shankara, who lives at 1174 Lincoln in Playa Vista, Los Angeles.

“You remembered?”

“I did,” says Trina. “How do I use this damn phone? There!” She dials the number.

“California. She’s too far.”

“She’ll pick up,” Trina says confidently. “Mamie always picks up.”

“Does she own…magic carpet?”

Our last hope is an old woman named Moonlight who lives in California. Ah, fuck it…I can’t stay awake. My head is falling off my damn body.

A noise from the front.

“They’re back there, sir,” says the jailer. “Both of them! Just like you wanted.”

“Excellent,” comes that snotty drawl I remember all too well.

Fuck.

Trina looks at me in horror, but she dials the number.

“Ah-ah, mister Reverend sir. I’m afraid— um— you have to fill out this paperwork, see?”

“Paperwork?” The Reverend bellows. “The hell you say! Open that door at once.”

“I’m sorry, your eminence, but rules are rules.”

“Where is the Sheriff? Who’s in here today?”

“Er— he took the day off for his birthday, sir. They’re having a party at his house but somebody had to stay back and watch the prisoners.”

“Hurry,” I tell Trina grimly.

“She’s not picking up!” Says Trina in a panic. “She always picks up.”

“Did you bring a knife— something--”

“No,” she chokes. The phone rings out. “No, Crash, I don’t have anything.”

I kiss her. A long, sucking, biting kiss. The last.

“I love you,” Trina blurts when I pull away. Her eyes are sad but determined. “I won’t let you die in here.”

“I’m not gonna die. Just…scratch.”

Her hands cup my face. I’m fading out.

“Have faith,” she says. “Trust in God.”

I stare at her as gray spots flood my vision. Footsteps are coming; that foul bastard come to put hands on my girl.

“Don’t let him take you,” I heave. “Get…get behind me.”

“Crash…”

---