Winter Morning

Arriving early, I ran across the concrete back deck into the bar. I grabbed two pool cues and approached the only man inside. I explained to him that there were two gang members about to rape a young woman "Right. Out. There." He wasn't concerned. I turned to the two women at the other end.

"Not our business."

"What if they have guns?"

"We might get hurt."

I headed out the back, leaving one cue inside and the other clattering to the concrete when the fat one walked around the corner and pointed a snub-nosed revolver at me.

"Tienes cartera?"

"I don't speak Spanish," I lied.

"He wants your wallet, puto." The skinny one rounded the corner now, holding the girl by the hair.

"I left it in my truck," I lied again. My wallet was in my pocket, but I carry the bare minimum and had no cash to fill it out further. They didn't seem concerned, and the fat one waved me over to the open area beside the bar with the barrel of the revolver.

"You're not going too work today, homes, you're gonna be target practice. I'm doin' double-taps." Suddenly, he threw the small revolver past me to the frozen ground and pulled a much larger one from his coat. He pointed it at me, and I dived right. He fired twice from ten feet away, and as I was rolling to my feet he ran past me to the back corner of the bar, about 30 feet away. He fired twice more, and missed twice more. I picked up the small revolver. As I took aim, he missed two more times. I gave up aiming and charged. He was slow to react, but as I closed the distance he pointed the massive revolver at my chest and jerked the trigger again.

Click.

By then I was at contact distance and put two in his chest. Before he hit the ground I added two more and landed with a knee on his left arm and the other on his neck.

"Tienes mas munición?"

The surprise never had time to leave his eyes. As the dying gangster took his last breaths, he shakily reached into his pocket and handed me the rest of his ammo. I reloaded the huge revolver, a .44, and headed around to the back of the bar, where the girl was starting to scream.

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This was a dream I had this morning. There was more to it, but you know how dreams fade. I don't remember how I was involved, except that it had something to do with a note. Or a letter. I remember the small revolver was a .22 magnum, but that didn't fit into the flow as I wrote, so I left it out. I wish I had more. What do y'all think?