I am continuing on Part Due and see where this is taking me. It is not what I am used to write but turning out to be a nice challenge for me. Hope you will enjoy another part in this McDougal Saga. Leave a thought afterwards on what was missing or would have been to much. Even a little bit of critique helps develop me to become better. So let me know what you think either way.
Detective McDougal! Part Tre
A drunk caught my eye, making a scene at the bar, over to much ice in his glass all the while the music keeps filing the room, like the blue smoke hovering over the heads of those listening and enjoying. Something sure isn’t right. I can feel it crawl up over my back, elevating my heart beat.
Memories of the how I got here shoot through my head. The shooting, the hospital, Susan coming to take care of me, sneaking in and out and then finally taking me away, with a dead certificate in her hand, in my name. Shards come flooding back but lots of dark empty spots remain.
Another bolt of pain shoots through me. I need to stay calm. Lower my heart rate, my vision pulsing on the rhythm of my beat. In my ears it is like somebody is playing a bongo.
“AAAHHHHH” A scream from backstage rolls over the music Susan and her band were playing. Only for a second there is just the sneering high pitch note cranking from the speakers…
A movie in slow motion is playing in front of me, everybody looking stunned at the spot where the scream came from. People getting are standing up on the front row, turning around and making a run for it with a fear plastered over their faces. In the corner a curtain was ripped down and dancers half-dressed come screaming and tumble over those in front of them.
Those are shots fired from the same direction. My hand takes a tight hold on the wooden grip, thumb resting on the hammer, ready to take my shot. Screams fill the room and people start running away from the front. I squeeze myself through the constant flow of people running away from the stage.
The stage where Susan was singing, last thing I seen before hell broke loose was her getting down and hide into the mass. I need to find her, just in case. My head turns left and right, eyes peering over the heads of those running, looking for that red dress, the flower in her hair.
Pushing and tugging they make it hard for me to even get half way the room. Man dressed all black with red ties walk through the openings on either side of the stage. Pointing their guns at the running mob and firing once or twice, having people dropping like flies.
I reach out my hand and grab Susan tight. Her scent is one in a million. Pulling her in front of me I push her into the stream, making our escape as more bullets are being fired, an automatic, but where? My body caves in after another jolt of pain from my wound. More gun fire and loud screams with people pushing and rushing either way.
Hell broke loose and I am having hard time breathing, focussing on the task, protecting Susan. What is wrong with me? What made me hesitate and lose my cool? I should be able to handle this, so why am I so afraid.
My arm is yanked to the side and I am being pulled out of the hysterical mob. Behind the bar my face is pressed against her chest.
“Calm down McDougal, breath. I chose you remember. You can do this I believe in you.”
This voice I heard it before, I felt this before. The day I got shot. So soothing and calm during the syndicate’s murderess intend, the scent I will never forget. Shining a light and making the pulsing vision ease down. Focus returning slowly, screams of people in fear of dying taking a seat in the background.