Painted Lies

Bro!” Everett screamed in my ear. 

If my eardrums hadn’t popped from Classic blasting from behind me, Everett’s voice did.

“We have to move!”

I asked him why, followed by a disgusted look. Just when the music was getting better, he ushered me out the door, towards the smoko area. The sea of drunks went against us. They held us up. Everett was getting frustrated. He chose a spot on the far right with a clear exit. 

“Something is brewing out there. Someone has a gun here," claimed Everett.

I sobered up.

“So let’s go,” he said. 

As we rushed to leave, the bouncers joked and checked their watches. I smiled. Everett reassured me the bros were out, waiting at the end of the alleyway. Somehow this all seemed suss, but I was too drunk to care. Within ten seconds, gunshots echoed in the distance, followed by screaming. A stampede of people ran past them. How did Everett know? He’s been acting strange lately. I stop questioning and gapped it. The bros had long gone.

“We have to get out of here!”

No shit. I’m not sticking around, knowing there is a shooter on the loose. In the distance, I could hear emergency services with their sirens, disturbing the chill air. Behind me, I could hear crisp footsteps and gravel scratching off the soles of some feet. I glanced around and saw a man dressed in camo gear, black boots & a balaclava, holding a sawn-off shotgun.

“Come here, peasants!” the male voice said.

I didn’t know what to do. Everett had run off towards the farthest carpark. He screamed at me to hurry. Panic swirled around me. It was like a movie scene when someone gets shot, and the collapse happened.. Except they have not shot me. Yet.

The alcohol sloshed in my gut like an earthquake in a swimming pool. The wannabe shooter walked down the alleyway, gun propped in front of me, aiming the gun at anything. He screamed again, aiming the gun at the streetlight. Pow. The light went out. The cops had arrived. They too were armed, milling around the empty carparks opposite the roadway entrance. 

Another set of crisp footsteps joined the initial shooter. The second shooter gunned down anyone who tried to escape to the other side of the roadway.. Blood splatter decorated the exterior walls and concrete from exit wounds. The body count had soared.

“Peasants!”

The duo were hungry for blood. I found my feet and gapped it out of the roadway. I felt tears run down my face, mixed with sweat. Adrenaline pumping thru my blood. 

“Where’s that bastard who just gapped it?” the first one screamed. “I want him dead.”

Me? I asked aloud. Why am I wanted dead? What have I done? Is he confused with Everett? He doesn’t even look me. I ran down Main Street, towards Princess intersection. I was on my own. The police were too busy trying to gather their places. No-one was watching my movements. Except the shooter. I had to think fast. I looked around frantically for safety. I realised that there was another exit further down. I took my chances and ran across the road. The streets were empty. I ran under the shop next to the antiques shop and hid in the garden. The echoing of gunshots disturbed the eerie silence. I could hear police shouting. Sirens were filtering out the gunshots. I heard those two distinct crisp shoes scrape across the footpath. The menace was near. He could smell blood. I heard him speak about something. A radio.

“Where is that bastard?”

I could just make out his slender figure between the trees I was hiding behind. A car had driven past, heading into town. The shooter aimed his shotgun at the driver’s side. Two shots fired. The car came to a crashing halt, driving off the road, into the shopfront. No one may enter the CBD. Seems fair. Doesn’t help me out though. How do I distract and escape from this person? I can’t hang around in this garden for the rest of the morning. Someone granted my wish.. The shooter turned on his heel and headed back to the police front. As he moved across the road, I heard him pull something, then throw something in my direction. The metal ball bounced and landed about three meters away from me. It looked like a grenade. Those things go off. I made a run for it down the street after leaving the homeware store carpark. I looked behind me. The explosion vibrated area, sending debris and building across a broad radius. Dodging flying missiles, I reached the next carpark. I heard more gunshots. The town had turned into a mess. Where were the police? Better still, where was Everett?

I made it to Broadway and pulled out my mobile. Four missed calls. From Everett. Just as I neared a shopfront with bright lights, a van drove past. I flew into a bush and watched as it pulled over under a tree. A man got out. He checked his vehicle over and pulled out a mobile phone.

The man had confirmed the police had been tailgating him by shooting at his rear lights. He retreated inside the van, slamming the door. My phone was vibrating. Everett. He apologised. Told me to meet him at the motel down Victoria Ave. Did I want to risk more shit hanging out with him? I want answers. I promised to arrive soon. I left the driveway and checked for any obstacles. I saw two figures crossing the road at the intersection down from me. They were carrying guns. They were the twats from the pub. Where’s the cops?

I shook my head in disbelief. Can these bloodthirsty bastards let me get home in one piece? Oh, that’s right, they think I’m someone I am not. I could smell the smouldering flames from the burning building. If I timed it right, I could make it up the road in ten minutes, providing those clowns kept walking up Princess. I scaled the shopfronts and continued running up the road. At intervals, I looked behind me to check their location. I couldn’t see them. Does that mean they were halfway up, Princess?

At the corner, I heard a faint chuckle. The clowns were near. They could smell my blood. I heard the round of gunshots. It was close.

Shit.