Kill License pt. 3
This is a long time coming.
Back in April, I posted two parts of a three-part story. I never got around to the third part, and I’m so sorry for that. to leave those of you good enough to read the first two parts hanging was irresponsible and cruel. Below, you’ll find the third part. If you need a refresher, or have never read the first parts, follow this link to the entire story.
Again, I apologize for the delay, and hope you enjoy the ending:
Odd, Mortimer thought as he strolled down the hall to the coffee machine.
He spent some time scrolling through the news feeds on the company screens, refilled his coffee and walked back down the hallway. He approached the front windows again to find Mary Winslow still standing out front. He had to admire her resolve, whatever her reason. He couldn’t remember the last time he had to wait more than 90 seconds for something.
He was about to walk back to his desk when he saw a car speeding through the parking lot. The tires squelched with a recklessness that meant the auto-drive was off. The front end of the car wavered left and right as the car straitened out and sped straight toward Mary.
She stood with an outward appearance of calm. Mortimer couldn’t see her face, but he imagined there was fear there. The car was mere feet from her.
Sonic bollards flared to life in front of Mary and the car stopped immediately. Mr. Winslow did not. He flew through the windshield in a shower of glass and landed on the pavement at Mary’s feet.
Mortimer smiled. She was smarter than he originally estimated. Nothing in the numbers anticipated a move like that.
Theodore Winslow was still alive, but he wouldn’t remain that way. Mary pulled the gun from her purse and pointed it at her husband’s head.
She’s done it, Mortimer thought.
She only had to pull the trigger. The gun shook in her hand.
Theodore Winslow rolled over, groaning. Blood poured from a gash in his hairline. He sputtered a few words, accompanied by frothing blood.
“Bitch!” was the only discernible syllable.
He pulled a gun from his jacket, and still Mary hesitated.
Two gun shots sounded and Mary went stiff. She dropped to her knees with one hand covering the bullet hole in her stomach. With confusion on her face, she fell on her side and lay still.
Not the likeliest of scenarios, but it was the predicted outcome.
A few hundred years ago, when the human race was still trying to shed its barbaric nature, kill licenses didn’t exist. People used to murder each other on a whim and then it would take a court months, if not years, to sort the whole situation out.
Theodore Winslow struggled to his feet. He winced when putting weight on his right leg and opted to hobble on the left.
His eyes met Mortimer’s. Mr. Winslow looked to be holding back some nasty comments. He flexed his fingers around the handle of his gun. Mortimer took a casual drink from his coffee, never breaking eye contact.
There was a slight movement from the ground. Mary struggled to lift her gun. It shook, trying to drop back to the pavement, but Mary didn’t let it. The first bullet grazed Theodore’s arm, spinning him around to face Mary.
His arm was still moving to level his gun when a second bullet bore deep into his chest. He fell backwards and did not move again.
Mortimer looked down at Mary and smirked. He underestimated her twice and she proved him wrong as many times. She didn’t even use all her bullets.
Help was on the way. The firm’s security system would have sent a call the instant the car hit the bollards. If Mary held on a little longer, she’d live.
Mortimer took another sip of coffee and noticed more movement from the ground.
Mary was looking up at him, eyes hard. She pointed her gun at Mortimer’s chest.
He raised on eyebrow and wondered what she was thinking. Two gunshots rang out.
The second was from an outdoor security turret mounted above the building entrance. It registered a threat to an employee and executed its protocol.
The first shot had come from Mary’s gun. It had been on target, speeding toward Mortimer’s heart. Mortimer hadn’t flinched as the bullet bounced off the firm’s security glass.
Her arm, and the gun, fell back to the pavement. Mortimer looked at Mr. Winslow and then at Mrs. Winslow before turning to walk back to his desk.
He smirked. Double payout.