Page 54 of Stilettos & Whiskey
Between upchucking, Roger shrieked, “What did you do? What did you do?”
His Hispanic buddy was on his knees, moaning loudly and puking his guts out.
“Tell me who Jim Bob is working for, and I might give you the antidote.”
“Go to hell, bitch.” Roger drew his gun.
I shot it out of his hand. “Who is Jim Bob working for?”
“Fuck you!” Roger bolted down the highway and was hit by a city bus.
I winced. “Ouch, that’s gotta hurt.” I pulled out my cellphone and called 9-1-1.
A calm, female voice answered, “9-1-1. State the nature of your emergency.”
“A pedestrian was hit by a bus.”
“What is the location of the accident?”
Damn good question. I looked around for a street sign. There weren’t any. “Ah, I’m not sure where I am.”
“Does the accident involve a city bus?”
I watched Roger trying to get up. “It does.”
“Don’t worry, ma’am, we’re getting numerous calls on the accident. The paramedics and police are on their way.” She disconnected.
Our command van skidded to a stop and my family bailed out. I snorted. They were all wearing gas masks and Grandpa even had his bazooka.
“What took you so long,” I yelled.
Grandpa walked over to me. “Did they hurt you?”
“Roger tased me but other than that, no.”
Jacob scanned the area. “Where is that little bastard?”
“He got hit by that bus.” I cocked my head as Roger managed to pull himself upright and limp off. “I think his left leg is broken.”
Through his gas mask, Jacob’s laugh was damn scary. “If it’s not, it will be.” He trotted after Roger.
Logan followed him.
A fire truck and several police cars stopped by the city bus. The firefighters and police officers quickly retreated and put on their gas masks.
Lucas pointed at my gun. “They let you keep your Glock?”
“Yep, and my cellphone. According to Roger, I wasn’t a threat, and they didn’t need to search me.”
Grandpa laughed. “He’s a cop, he should have known the effects of a taser only last about five minutes”
“What can I say? You can’t cure stupid,” I replied.
Gravelly voice, a short, squat white male, crawled over to me. “I’ll tell you what you want to know, lady. I’ll tell you everything. Please just give me the antidote. Please.”
“Okay. What’s your name?”
“Jesse.” He dry heaved. “Jesse Kent.”
