Midnight by Anna Dove (books for new readers .TXT) 📕

Haley felt a hand on her arm; it was Junetta, tugging for them to move on. Haley touched the shoulders of the other two and beckoned, and they crept from the scene, gingerly stepping over metal fragments on the side of the road.

The tall hotels, restaurants and businesses of West Street loomed high all of a sudden in the dark without much warning, and they found themselves at an intersection.

Keeping out of the street as much as possible, they passed the darkened windows of restaurants and insurance companies, attorneys-at-law and financial managers. As they reached the heart of the city, the State Capitol dome stood faintly glowing in the dim moonlight like a less ostentatious copy of its Washington counterpart, as if it had taken a hard look at the architecture fifty miles south, and had decided it a little too much marble. Down past the governor's mansion, passing the government buildings they crept towards the Harbor.  Haley recognized restaurants and shops that they had visited before; the windows were dark, and a distinctly ominous nature hung about them. Passing the darkened Starbucks on the left, they came into view of the Harbor.

“Hey, you all, stop!”

Haley’s heart sank.

All four turned slowly as the gravelly, deep voice echoed around the empty Harbor. Their eyes searched the shadows, looking for the man from whom the voice had come. Their hands moved to the holts of their guns.

“Hands in the air, or I’ll shoot,” said the voice, with a calm that sent a chill to Haley’s very bones. She removed her hand from her gun and slowly raised her palms above her head. The others did the same.

For a moment, nothing moved; and then, from underneath the shadow of an awning stepped two men, tall, lean, and holding black glocks at their sides with their fingers on the triggers. They approached the four with deliberate steps, like that of a cat as it eyes its prey.

Haley saw Junetta out of the corner of her eye, with her wrinkled hands raised above her head and her eyes fixed on the approaching men.

“What supplies do you have?” questioned the other man, who had not yet spoken. His voice was nasally and less calm than the other.

“Not much,” responded Haley, her voice sounding strange in her own ears.

“Hand them over. You. Step forward.” The man pointed to Haley. “Keep your hands above your head!”

Haley acquiesced. She heard Elizabeth breathing heavily.

“Give me your gun. Careful now, if you try to shoot you’ll be dead before you can take it from your hip.”

Slowly, Haley took the gun from her belt and handed it over, clicking on the safety lock. The man took it; her eyes met his, and she saw them glint in the moonlight.

“Now take those backpacks from the others. All the supplies.”

Haley turned, and took the supplies and food from the others, laying them carefully at the feet of the two men. She opened the bags so that the men could see the food inside. For a moment, as the attackers saw the food, they let their eyes rest hungrily for a moment too long on the bags.

“Drop your gun,” barked Carlos, and Haley turned to see that in that moment he had drawn his own, and was pointing it at the man who had first spoken. “If your friend so much as moves his pinky finger, I’ll put a bullet through your brain.”

No one moved; it was as if time had frozen and they were suspended in its grasp.

“You’re bluffing,” finally said the first man, in that cool, chilled voice. “You’ve never held a gun before in your life.”

“You’re wrong,” spat Carlos. “I’ve put a man in the ground before, and I’ll do it again.”

“Oh, have you now?” sneered the first.

“Yes,” said Carlos, in a low tone.

“Let’s go back,” said the second man, to the first.

The first man seemed to be deliberating, and in a wonderfully calm way considering that he was standing facing the barrel of another man’s gun. After a few seconds, he turned to his partner.

“Alright,” he said.

The two turned their backs, and began up the cobblestone street. Carlos remained with his gun trained on them. Haley began to tie up the bags again.

Then two sharp cracks split the air, and Haley flattened herself to the ground. Looking up, she saw Carlos with a smoking gun, and the hot metal shell of the bullet fell to the street before her eyes. She looked up towards the retreating men.

One lay on the ground, the other knelt beside him. Carlos was running up towards them, Elizabeth following him, their guns trained on the kneeling man. Haley rose to her feet and, taking Junetta’s hand, made their way up to the others.

“You shot my friend,” said the second man, looking up at Carlos. “He’s dead. You shot my friend.”

“He pulled on me first, as you both were walking away.”

“I know, I know,” said the man, “but you shot him, and he’s dead.” He spoke with a choking in his voice. “I knew I should have never come with him. He said that he knew how to get food. He has three children, young kids--kids! Young...and he goes out every night and comes back with food--and I never questioned how, but see I’ve got two kids of my own, and so I figured, if this guy knows how to get food, I should stay with him. It’s one thing to talk about morals and principles but it’s another when you see your five-year old daughter starving in front of your own eyes. I came with him because of her. Because of my wife and son and daughter. I’m a real estate agent,” said the man, looking up at them, and