Snippet Sunday – Hard-Boiled/Noir WIP – October 11, 2015
Snippet Sunday is a Facebook group for writers I’ve been privileged enough to have been accepted into.
From the group guidelines; “Welcome to Snippet Sunday, where writers come together to share a few sentences of their current project–whether it’s a recently released novel, a WIP (work in progress), or an older manuscript that’s being revived. Intended to hook readers, gather feedback and build an author’s fan base, Snippet Sunday is the FB group that does all three.”
I’m not sure where today’s snippet will fit into the story… It takes place after a whole bunch of stuff has happened after the last sequence of snippets.
To make a long story short, Jake ends up catching a ride with Jed. In the course of that ride, Jed’s truck does some involuntary off-roading through a cornfield. After the automotive shenanigans, Jake heads back toward the road in search of the bad guys…
I slipped through the last of the corn, gun in hand, and limped into step behind him.
The lane cut by Jed’s out of control truck was studded with broken, uneven remnants of stalks. I had to watch where I put my feet to keep things from turning into a hilarious but fatal pratfall.
I closed to within ten yards of the man in the suit, then stopped.
He continued to pace, looking from side to side as he went.
I took note of his wide shoulders and the way his back maintained that same width through the waist and into the legs. The back of his salt and pepper mullet contrasted with the darkness of his tailored black suit.
His right shoulder looked a little bit bigger than the left.
Shoulder rig, right side. Left-handed shooter.
I raised the Browning, training it on the middle of his back, using both hands to hold the thing steady.
“Hey!” I called out.
He spun around, reaching into his jacket.
“That’s a terrible idea,” I said. My face itched where the blood had begun to dry.
He looked me over from ground to gun, then grinned. It was a weird grin, lopsided and unnatural, like he’d recently shaved off a beard and wasn’t used to walking around with his face out.
“You know there’s more guys out there, don’t you?” he said. His accent had south Jersey all over it.
“Can’t worry about that.”
His face gave me nothing, not even an involuntary shift of an eye.
“I can only deal with the problem in front of me.”
The sky went a darker shade of gray as thicker clouds drifted in front of the sun.
I let my breath out through my teeth as a mild tremor ran down my right arm. The breathing helped with the shock-induced nausea. There was nothing I could do about the shakes.
The guy in the suit’s grin got uglier.
“You look like ten pounds of shit in a five pound bag.”
I couldn’t argue with the man.
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