Fantasy fiction; Science fiction; Subconsciousness -- Fiction
His finger closed down on the trigger. It was just at that moment,
however, that the green sedan, no longer benefitted by a driver,
swerved toward the limousine, throwing Toffee back inside. The
congressman cramped the wheel of the limousine sharply to avoid a
crash. The gunman, thrown sharply against the door, fired wildly into
the night. From the rear there was the sound of screeching tires and
forced brakes.
"Good night!" the congressman panted, righting the limousine as the
green sedan veered away again. "What did you hit?"
"I think it was that coupe back there," the thug said, peering out the
window. "I must have hit a tire: it's out of control."
"Good Lord!" the congressman yelled, "the curve's right ahead! We're
pinned in between them. We're going to crash. Everybody's going to
crash!"
No sooner was this dire prediction out of the congressman's mouth than
it became a deafening reality. Ahead, the green sedan raced headlong
into the concrete embankment with a rending smash and almost literally
flattened itself into two dimensions.
This was the signal for the two lesser crashes that followed. The
limousine engaged its radiator forcibly into the wreckage just in time
to receive a skidding broadside from the coupe.
* * * * *
A moment of silence followed, emphasized by the approaching scream of a
siren. The police car jolted to a stop and the two cops ran forward to
the scene of destruction. They reached the coupe first.
"Here!" the first cop said. "What's going on?"
The faded blonde jutted her head out of the window. "He blew out my
tire!" she rasped. "Not to mention all that pinching!"
"Pinching?" the cop asked curiously. "What kind of pinching, lady?
Where?"
"All kinds of pinching," the woman said evilly. "Everywhere."
The cop peered at Marc. "Why's he dressed in that nightshirt?"
"How should I know?" the woman said. "Maybe he thinks he's cute or
something."
The cop leaned closer. "Here, you," he said, "why are you dressed like
that?"
"I'm tired," Marc said exhaustedly, "and I want to go to bed. I had a
little drink about an hour ago...."
"Stop that now," the cop barked. "No nonsense."
"But it's all perfectly true," Marc said.
The cop started to speak further, but he caught sight of the
congressman and his companion climbing out of the limousine and tore
himself away.
"There are people dying in that car!" the congressman shouted
tragically, hurrying forward. "It's awful, officer!"
"All maimed and cut up," the thug put in. "Loose heads and legs and
stuff all over the place."
"Have you seen them?" the policeman asked.
"Well, they must be," the congressman put in quickly. "How could it be
otherwise? The man in the car is Marc Pillsworth. I saw him just before
the crash."
The policeman did a take. "Yeah?"
"Sure," the thug said excitedly. "Only now he's all cut up--loose head
and arms and...!"
"Shut up," the congressman snapped.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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