Flicking

by Lukas Oberhuber

sitting next to him. “She better have this situation under control,” he snapped, “or we’re both fucked, you got that son?”

  Lieut looked back. His eyes a cold glint. “It’s not my fault you can’t get here on time. Think you are too big to make mis—“

  Smack, the blow left a narrow cut on Lieut’s face. “Don’t fuck with me now. Do your job and shut up.”

  The taxi was jammed in a slow moving line of cars, fighting to get cross town. Their target, near Union Square Park, seemed impossibly far away.

  For a long time, the alleyway stayed quiet, with just a distant sound of horns, cars and trucks. Neither of them spoke. Andrea thought about how her mother had no idea where she was. Probably didn’t even know that she was missing, unless Melbox Studios or the police had called her. It would have been nice to speak to her, just to say goodbye. Unless somehow they’d managed to escape.

  After a long while Andrea began to hope that the danger had passed.

  But then a faint voice could be heard entering the alleyway. Soon Andrea could hear someone close by, speaking into what sounded like a phone.

  “I’m just off Fifth Ave and West Seventeenth Street, you moron. How did you guys not get here?” A pause. “So I’m to get them myself?” Another pause. “That’s clear. Bloody good thing I’m competent. I’ll convince them, don’t worry.” A cell phone flipped shut. The rasping sound must have been a gun. A cough; a clearing throat. The voice was Tara’s, Andrea was sure of that.

  “Come out you two. I just want to talk,” the voice called out from about twenty feet away. It was Tara, clearly unaware of how close she was.

  How had she known they were in there? Andrea wondered. Or had she done that in every possible hiding place? Was that what had taken so long? Andrea desperately didn’t want to find out.

  More sounds of movement. “Dorian, I’m your sister’s best friend, really. I’ve made love to you for god’s sakes. How could I hurt you? We need only have a conversation; gain clarity on this whole thing, that’s all. Then we’re done. They want some information and they promised to let you go.” A quiet pause. “They convinced me. They promised me you wouldn’t get hurt, and they offered a lot of money. I’m attracted to you too, so it seemed really easy. I didn’t mean anything. I didn’t want to hurt you. I’m sorry. But it will all be fine. You’ll be fine. They promised.”

  Andrea looked at Dorian who looked back. “She’ll kill us,” he whispered. “Or they will. They didn’t hesitate to kill my family.” His eyes blinked over tears. She could see he was shaking.

  “I know.”

  “She has a gun. We have this.” Dorian wiggled the lid, his face pinched.

  Andrea put her hand in her pocket, momentarily feeling nothing. Panic. No, there it was. She pulled out her bubblegum pink gun. “Not exactly,” she said, blocking our of her head the thought that this could be the last few seconds of her life.

  Dorian went white, slowly shaking his head.

  “Watch me,” Andrea whispered, acting much much braver than she felt. Then, swallowing in her dry throat, she shouted “I’m coming out.”

  “Are you with Dorian?” Tara replied. Andrea could hear the surprise that they were so close came through Tara’s voice. That might give them a tiny advantage.

  “No. He got away…you know, over the fence,” Andrea’s throat rasped. “I couldn’t; too high. I told him to go.” Her voice choked. “Don’t hurt me. I’ve got nothing to do with him.”

  “It’s ok, sweetheart. Pop out, why don’t you, so I can see you.”

  Andrea gave Dorian a shaky thumbs up. He shook his head, no. Andrea shrugged, her hand trembling. She had no choice. This was her only chance. Now or never. She forced her eyes to stay open and stood up and jumped out in one smooth athletic motion. The move ended with her in the center of the alley. Her feet spread, she raised her hands. Tara reacted, clearly surprised by the gun in Andrea’s hands. Before Tara could get her black gun pointing at Andrea, Andrea squeezed the bubblegum pink trigger. She felt the kick of the small pistol. This was it.

  Down

  “Mel, this is Frank.”

  “Frank? Damn glad to hear from you. How is the old hammer hanging?” What the hell was wrong with his secretary, Mel wondered? He’d explicitly told her not to put Frank through. Calm, let the words come when they’re ready. “What do you think of the Superheroes movie? Doing well if I say so myself.”

  “Yes, why in fact it is. You have done a fine job Mr. Boxton. Which should make what I’m about to tell you less of a problem, I’m sure.”

  “Of course. Look Frank. I don’t have any time right now. About to hop into a critical conference call on AsiaPac distribution. So I have to say goodbye. Thanks for your—“

  “Mel. I warn you. Do not hang up.”

  “But—“

  “Mel, we’ve decided to cancel the contract. There’s too much suspicion going around and we can’t be seen taking the wrong kinds of actions. Not to mention that your methods,” Frank generated a small cough, “haven’t exactly been reducing the amount of piracy going on, and that’s a problem.”

  “Be serious Frank. Progress is there, and we’ll meet those aggressive targets I talked about last time.”

  “I need the money back in the MIAG’s account by next Monday.”

  “Are you craz—I mean, Frank, that’s not going to be necessary. We’ll hit the targets, all seventy-five percent in the next month, I promise.”

  “Sorry, my good fellow.”

  The bullet sped through the alley, kicking the gun back against Andrea’s wrist, sending her off balance. Tara’s hand rose, the black gun pointing towards Andrea. Red spurted from a spot above Tara’s collar bone on the side of her neck. The droplets flew through the air as Andrea fell backward. The hand with Tara’s gun lowered awkwardly, then pulled up sharply. A crash echoed in Andrea’s ears as smoke blew from the front of Tara’s weapon. Andrea landed hard on her back.

  “Oh god,” Andrea heard Dorian shout. She turned to see him staring at her, shocked. Why? What was wrong? She’d only fallen down. She turned back to look at Tara, couldn’t see her. Andrea sat up. Geez, everything was moving so slowly. Like underwater. Again. Was the rest of her life going to be lived in super slo-mo?

  It felt like smoke billowed around her. Finally her view cleared. She could see, craning her neck to looking over the tops of her shoe tips. There she was. Andrea pointed with her gun, so Dorian could see. “She’s like a sack of potatoes. Look at her. Potatoes with catsup.” The words spilled from her mouth, like lines from some bad thriller movie she’d seen in the distant past. She turned to Tara and yelled. “Don’t try to hurt us.” Then the shaking started.

  Andrea stared as she rolled over and started to get up. As hard as she looked, Tara didn’t move. Tara had crumpled on top of herself, legs twisted around in grotesque patterns. “I got her Dorian. I got her. We’re still alive.” The shaking felt like it had taken over her whole body. Her knees didn’t want to carry her.

  “But…what’s wrong with you?” Dorian’s words came out in a squeak. He lurched to his feet and came to Andrea’s side. “Are you hit?”

  “What do you mean? Where?” her voice quavered. She couldn’t control it.

  “Look at you, on the ground. Trying to get up. Where does it hurt? Oh god.” He swallowed. “I’m sure it’s ok. You’ll be fine.”

  “I’m fine. Look, I’m really fine.” Still she couldn’t keep her voice from jumping all over the place.

  “But you fell.”

  “I lost my balance. Her bullet hit back there. I heard it.”

  Dorian looked at her oddly. It made Andrea question if she was right.

  “Is there something you see that I don’t know about?” she asked.

  “No. Nothing.”

  Andrea, still shaking, finally managed to climb to her feet. All her joints and muscles did the right thing. She brushed off her clothes. “I think I’m ok.”

  Suddenly Dorian put his arms around her
shoulders and squeezed hard. “This is good. This is good,” he murmured.

  She tried to suppress the bile in her throat. The shaking had calmed down a lot. She felt like a person again. “We need to secure the scene.” Here she went, imitating a cop again. It was like some weird instinct.

  “Yes.”

  Andrea walked over to Tara. Lantern eyes stared out at Andrea unflickering. Red blood painted Tara’s face in thick layers. Vomit boiled up into Andrea’s throat, forcing her to choke it back down. She swallowed hard to keep her insides from spraying all over Tara. She had to keep herself together. Then the shaking started again. The body in front of her looked just like squelch in San Francisco. She’d never wanted to see that again. But in her heart of hearts she’d known she might well have to. And here it was, only a few days later. And this time it had been herself doing the killing, creating the dead body. Fuck.

  “We have to go,” Andrea said, looking around. If she pretended she knew what she was doing, maybe it would work. A needed a bit of acting class again. “We’ll have the fuzz here in a minute or two. Not to mention the goons she called.”

  As if to emphasize the point, Tara’s flip phone began playing its Bolero ringtone. Dorian froze.

  “Now! Dorian!” Andrea pulled his hand, dragging him from the alleyway. His eyes had glazed over, unseeing, nearly catatonic.

  Andrea caught them the first cab she could, and ordered it to her hotel. It was the best place they could go, at least for the next few hours.