Excerpt: The Girl Who Loved The City

Autumn leaves danced over the windshield of his car. They’d taken to pilling there as he sat under the maple tree outside the pink ginger-bread Victorian. He’d been sitting here for two hours waiting for her to get home with her little girl. He knew her pattern, he’d watched her for some time now. She worked one cubical over from him and it was easy to observe when she left. He knew she went straight from work to pick up her daughter from the ritzy privet school she and her husband put the girl through. An all girls school, very sexy, all those young girls with their raging hormones and no one to kiss but each other. He shifted in his seat, that thought was a bit too much for him.

He was eager, ever since the Voice toled him the truth about his co-worker and her daughter. He believed every word of it even, it all made sence. The Voice didn’t need to say much to convince him, he’d seen the signs of the truth at his co-worker’s desk. You’d think with such a dirty secret she’d do more to hide it, but no. There is was all over her desk and her computer. He’d taken a few pictures on his phone to send to The Voice, just as conformation, and The Voice gave him instructions on what to do.

He spent two weeks following her, waiting to see how long it would take for her to pick up her daughter, and then drive home. Crosstown traffic resembles some forgotten level of hell, especially when it went though the Castleton shopping area. He timed her, and it took about two hours to get home. He discussed it with The Voice, and they both agreed that waiting at home for her would be the best idea. So on the day The Voice told him he drove straight from work to her house, to wait outside.

He spotted her car as it turned the corner of the neighborhood street. His stomach growled with anticipation of supper, he thought about stopeing for a fast burger, but he wanted to impress The Voice. He decided he’d have a victory dinner, someplace nice when he was done here.

He pulled out his cell and dialed 911.

“911 operator, what is your emergency?” The woman on the other end sounded tired, he could sympathize, he had a hard day at the office too. The anticipation of this moment made his day go by slowly and he turned into a clock watcher. He even snapped at the mail clerk when he brought the afternoon work load.

“I’d like to report two shooting victims.” He said. “One woman, one teen, in a blue Honda Civic.” He left the address of the ginger-bread house in the same cold tone he used to order lunch from the sub shop that day and then hung up without waiting for conformation. His soon to be ex-co-worker’s car pulled into the drive. He sprang into action for he knew he needed to move quickly, the ambulance would be there soon.

With a smoothed rehearsed motion he opened his car door, walked briskly up to the driver side widow and smiled. The woman inside turned to look at him surprised, she had been talking with the teenage girl and he saw her working hard to place his face. He pulled the trigger before she even realized he’d pointed a gun at her. Two quick pops and the woman’s head shattered all over her daughter in the passenger seat. The girl looked in amazement at him, her moth working to form words, he only grinned and shook his head. Two more quick pops and he turned from the car to stroll back to his own.

He got in and closed the door. He looked in the mirror and wiped away a few spatters of blood form his face. He admired his appearance, he looked younger, healthilyer than he had that morning. He felt better too. His blood was pumping nicely and he felt, energized. He put the car in gear and pulled out onto the road. As he drove he flipped open his phone again, without bothering to dial he spoke.

“It’s done.”

“Good. Await further instructions.” The digital voice told him. He flipped the phone closed again with a flourish and whistled tunelessly as he drove. He actually felt like laughing. The surprise on their faces kept coming to mind, and he found himself cackling. It almost made it too hard to drive but all the lights turned green as he drove home. He took that as a sign that the city itself approved of his actions.

The Voice promised him that what he did would improve things for the city overall. He was glad to help. Too long he’d sat in that soul killing cubical filling in blank forms and filing faxes. Now he was like a superhero, saving the city from the dredges of its citizens. Maybe they’d give him a medal someday, when The Voice gave him permission to tell them what he did.

Thoughts of medals and keys to the city filled his head as he finished his drive home.