Redemption Mine

I checked out the environment before stepping into the open. From the cover of the shrubs at the corner of the building, I carefully surveyed the area. The hairs on my arms and neck were standing completely to attention, and I could feel my vision narrowing. I thought it must have been guilt and dismissed the early warning. I strolled quickly to my car, unlocked the driver’s door, and stepped in. I leaned forward to put my keys in the ignition and the windscreen exploded into a million pieces. I threw myself across the front seats as the driver’s headrest snapped back with an impact hard enough to cause it to burst open. Vinyl and foam padding filled the cabin. I shouldered the passenger door open and tumbled out of the car, slamming against the side of the offices. An impact about six inches from my head took a huge chunk of brick out of the wall and showered it into my face. I dived again on to the gravel and combat crawled behind the car, keeping my head down, sucking in short, sharp breaths. I snuck a look under the rear bumper, couldn’t see anything except cordite smoke from the roof of the gym. I quickly pulled my head back as the next bullet tore through the rear quarter panel and lodged inside the boot. This was followed by a barrage of gunfire, bullets shrieking and pinging off every surface close to me. I huddled against the boot, hoping the rear wheel was protecting me. Round after round pounded the car, ricocheting off the gravel, tearing through the trees behind me. Then it stopped. I waited a few seconds, tasting the blood on my lip and gathering some courage, then snuck another quick look under the bumper. Dark hair bobbed across the rooftop, out of sight. I had to get out of there. I didn’t know if the gunman was going to come to the car park to finish the job. And I wasn’t armed. I scrambled into the car.