The killing

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Chapter 4: Something Goes Pretty Wrong
(by The Meganator, added on 15 April 2011 12:37 AM)

I ran out of the store, feet pounding on the pavement. But my heart was pounding faster. For the last decade, all I’d seen of this killer—this guy who seemed to treat taking lives like a hobby--were pictures. Newspaper clippings, big, blown-up picutres on posters, brief images of his face flashing across my TV screen. Just pictures. Nothing too real. Nothing could’ve prepared me for the moment when I turned around and found myself looking into that face. Although I’d been trying for over a decade to catch this guy, I wasn’t prepared for these pictures to come to life. And “I’ve been waiting for you”. What was that supposed to mean?

No time! I had to move faster. I needed to get to my car. Now! The killer had gotten a head start. Not a very big one, but in a few seconds he’d be in his vehicle and go speeding off to who knows where. I couldn’t lose him now—not after 10 long years of being so close, but yet so far.

I jumped behind the wheel just in time to see him peel out of the parking lot in a small, black honda, engine roaring, tires squealing. I gunned it, smiling as my own engine roared easily to life. I was behind the wheel of a silver Grande Prix—finely tuned, high performance engine; 8 cylinders of power. This shouldn’t be very difficult.

I drove, hot on his heels, never taking my eyes off of that black Honda as it dodged and weaved through the traffick, trying to pick up speed. Fine with me, I was gaining steadily. I had to keep my focus. Swerve to the left of a Ford F350 with a heavy load. Stop for a red light. Yield to a big yellow school bus. Avoid getting rear-ended by one of those little 2-seater boxcars that really shouldn’t be on the road in the first place. All the while keeping one eye on that black Honda. Then I got my lucky break. We were entering some residential neighbourhood, and the killer was stopped by a red light as 2 pedestrians walked across the street. I was now right behind him. Both eyes on him now. I motioned for him to pull over. I didn’t look behind me untill I heard the bang, and by then it was too late. The unmistakable sound of a rifle report. I looked in my rearview mirror then, just in time to see the little boxcar speeding off in the opposite direction—and a nice hole in my front left tire. I stared in shock for a minute, I just couldn’t believe it. By the time I looked forward again, the black Honda was gone. GONE! Ears ringing, I surveyed my surroundings—and my blood went cold. I’d been so focused on the chase that I didn’t realize where it was leading me. I was sitting in the entrence to my own neighbourhood. My house was just down this street. Then a memory flashed across my mind, something that pushed me far beyond being just a little creeped out.
“I’ve been waiting for you.”

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