Monday, August 17, 2009

Bullets to Spare

Bullets to Spare
By Scott Wilson
Word Count: 357

“It was an accident, I swear to you. An accident. The damn guns went off by themselves, despite the fact that there were people in the room.”

“And you just happened to be the only person in that room that seemed to have escaped without a single injury. Most of the bodies had at least half a dozen gunshot wounds.”

“They were my friends. I was in as much a panic as the rest of the people in the room. I don’t know why I was spared?”

“And I suppose you don’t know how the paintball pellets happened to become solid bullets either?”

“How should I know? We were supposed to be spending the day at the Maleny Retreat as a bonding exercise for work. Paintball was organised by the boss, not me?”

“And the boss would be the poor soul with half a dozen holes in his head? It looks like a rainbow went psycho on his head.”

“I love my job and my work mates...”

“Loved, you mean.”

“I still love them. I wish they were still alive.”

The officer paced the interview room, scratching his head.

“Okay, you’re free to go, but don’t leave town. We’ll need to speak with you again soon.”

Charlie stood up and left the room, perspiration dripped from every pore in his body. Outside the station, his girlfriend waited, sitting on the bonnet of her Monaro. When she saw Charlie walking down the stairs she smiled. At the same time, gunshots rang out from the police station.

“What the...” Charlie said, diving for cover.

A police officer staggered out of the front door, blood dripping from the two gunshot wounds to her chest.

“The guns,” she said. “They all started going off...”

Charlie’s girlfriend smiled.

“Come on Charlie,” she said. “Now you don’t have to spend the weekend away, we can have a great weekend together.”


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