Message on a Windshield XI

B.G. Bowers and I are writing this story together.  For all EVEN NUMBERED chapters please go to: bgbowers             Thank you.

I ran until I got to the trees at the end of the estate.  I knew I had little time.  Once they found out I was gone they would be after me, dogs and all.  I hit the wall running, grabbed onto the thick, ropy, vines and hauled myself to the top.  I trotted along until I saw a good landing spot then jumped and rolled.  I started running as soon as my feet were under me.  The road was straight ahead.

I didn’t see The Gray man until he stepped in front of me.  I held up my gun and aimed at his chest. “Hurry,” he said, looking at me.   “And put the gun away, we don’t have time for games.   Now come on.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” I said, keeping the gun steady.

“Fine,” he said, walking away.  “Stay here and die.  Your choice.”

“Who are you?” I asked.  But he just kept walking. I growled, but it was dark and I hurried to catch up.  “Who are you?” I asked again. Memories of his face looking down on me in the alley, floated to the forefront of my mind.

“I’m someone who can save your life,” he said, never turning his head.  “I knew your brother.  Now be quiet.  We can talk later.”

As soon as we got to the road a car pulled up in front of us.  The door opened and we got in.  “Go,” said the Gray Man, quickly.  “Now.”  The car took off and I turned to look at him.

“Please take off your fedora.”

“It’s a hat, not a fedora.”

“Looks like a fedora to me,” I said.  “Will you take it off, please.”

He sighed loudly, then removed his hat.

“Okay, it is totally a fedora,” I said touching the brim.  “What is going on?”

“They were going to kill you,” he said.  “I couldn’t let them do that.  I promised your brother.  And  the things you think I’ve done, were done by Martha and her goon squad.”

“The killings?”

“Yes, all Martha but with your help, of course,” said the Gray Man. “Martha has to be eliminated.  Karr too.”

“Why should I believe you?” I said, pushing myself up against the door, leaning against the knife strapped to my back.

“Because your brother and I were….”

“Were what?”


“My brother was a librarian why would he need a partner?”

He laughed then.  A relaxed and true laugh.  “A librarian,” he gasped.  “That’s what he told you?”

“He used to bring books home all the time.”

“He was NOT a librarian,” said the Gray man.

“What was he?”

“He was the head of an elite troop of…..”  A shot rang out and the Gray Man flew forward as car swerved hard to the right.

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2 Responses to Message on a Windshield XI

  1. bgbowers says:

    Nicely done! Part XII is up.:) x

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