Bleeding Out

IN TEN MINUTES I START CUTTIN' THE BITCH! SO DON'T TELL ME WHAT'S FUCKIN' IMPOSSIBLE!'

Frank squeezed her eyes shut. His height made his head a clear shot. There'd be no wounding him, only the one clean shot. It would kill him. Oh Jesus Christ. She thought about aiming for his right shoulder and disabling him, but Kennedy was too close against him. Christ, if she'd just step a little to the side, I could get his arm.

She held her breath for a moment, trying to hear where Tunnel was.

She had to look again. Johnston still had his back to her, was still hugging Kennedy against his chest. If I go wide I hit Kennedy to the left, to the right I go straight through the front door.

Frank resumed her squat against the wall. Shivering threatened to overtake her again and she backhanded drops of sweat off her brow. Fuck, this is so sideways! She heard Noah's assurance that a car was on its way, but because they didn't have enough time it wouldn't be a black Explorer.

'What is it?'

Noah's reply was muffled. Frank couldn't hear it, but Johnston seemed satisfied.

'Alright. Yeah, that'll work.' Then to Kennedy he said, 'Yeah. You an' me gonna go for a long ride, baby.'

Frank could see this getting out of hand, another OJ ride down the freeway, but the difference was OJ had everything to lose and Johnston had nothing. The fear in her gut told her to just end it, take him out while she still had a smooth, clear target. Only one shot. Part of her wanted to giggle insanely as Robert DeNiro's face from a scene in The Deer Hunter swung crazily before her. Underneath her agitation, an older voice born of years of training and experience urged her to be calm and wait it out, get the negotiators in to slowly diffuse the situation with no one getting hurt. The problem was, she didn't know if Johnston could be reasoned with. While she weighed this she could still hear Noah's soothing voice and Johnston's tense one. Then she heard another sound, like scuffling, quick steps, and Johnston swearing. Then with a hint of panic, he urgently whined, 'Bitch, don't fuck with me.'

She thought for a moment that Tunnel had seen her, then realized Kennedy must have broken free. Frank heard more steps, then Kennedy saying, 'Come on, man, you're not stupid. You gotta know this ain't gonna work.'

In a freeze-frame moment Frank would never forget, the earth stood perfectly still and every clock in the world stopped ticking. Words and sounds murmured around her, but all she could distinguish was the rush of blood in her brain, like surf breaking smoothly on sand. Summoning a breath and holding it, she harshly willed her body to cease its trembling. She wiped the sweat out of her eyes and stood swiftly. In one smooth motion she swung a leg into the living room and took a stance, aiming the 9mm with both hands. Frank's vision had narrowed and all she could see was Johnston closing in on Kennedy in the small kitchen, an open pocketknife in his hand.

She heard herself say, 'Drop the knife,' and her voice sounded like someone else's, from far away. She hoped he'd heard. He must have because he turned toward her. As he did so, Kennedy moved in on him. Johnston swung back, slashing the knife toward her. Frank moved when Kennedy did but stopped when she recognized the bright red spurt of arterial blood and saw Johnston reaching again for her. In slow motion she saw Johnston trying to drag Kennedy back against him, saw Kennedy grasping at her neck, the too-fast flow of blood, Kennedy suddenly white.

'LET HER GO!' Frank commanded. Johnston's face was in her sights. He stared at her, still grappling with Kennedy, and Frank squeezed softly on the trigger. Like a girder in an earthquake, the tall man buckled and swayed as the right side of his brain flew into the ceiling.

Kennedy made a startled, incoherent sound and started to go down.

'Get an ambulance, get an ambulance!' Frank screamed to whoever was kicking on the door. Noah and Johnnie tumbled inside, drenched, hair plastered on their faces. They paused involuntarily, taking in Tunnel and Kennedy on the floor.

Frank had whipped off her jacket and was pressing it against Kennedy's neck. Kennedy looked at her, eyes wide and dark against the sudden paleness of her skin. She tried to say something, but Frank hushed her. 'You're gonna be alright. Just be still, okay?'

Kennedy barely nodded, and Frank said quietly, 'Atta girl.'

Noah knelt next to Frank. He took Kennedy's hand. 'You're supposed to stay outta the way, idiot.'

Kennedy grinned weakly. She tried to shrug.

'Hang in there,' he crooned, 'You're doin' fine, just fine.'

Kennedy glanced at Frank, as if for verification, and Frank smiled reassuringly, telling her to stay still. 'It's just a nick. Don't worry. Ambo's on the way.'

'What happened?' Noah asked. Their eyes locked over Kennedy, sharing a flicker of dread.

'They were scuffling. He cut her. I shot him. Where was he?'

Noah looked sick. 'Behind the door,' he said pointing his head toward the hall.

Frank looked perplexed. She glanced at Tunnel, realizing he was skinny enough to have gone undetected on the other side of the hall door. For a second she thought she was going to puke, but she took control and said softly to Kennedy, 'How you doing, sport?'

The young cop blinked a few times and shivered. Frank barked, 'Get me blankets!'

A uniform covered Kennedy with a ratty bedspread, while Johnnie yelled on the radio for a fucking ambulance. Jill burst through the crowd, completely soaked, and gasped, 'Oh, my God.'

Frank looked up to see her propped against the stove, almost as white as Kennedy. Too much blood was soaking through Frank's wadded jacket, warm and slippery on her fingers. It was too familiar, and Frank felt the dark panic flapping toward her again. She was ready to bolt from the room, but Kennedy was staring at her. Not cocky anymore, but bewildered and pale.

'You're doing great,' Frank assured, wondering where the goddamn ambulance was. With her free hand she smoothed Kennedy's forehead, smearing even more blood on her. A siren grew closer and Frank silently exhorted, Hurry, hurry, hurry, fucking hurry.

Cops had gathered like flies on shit around the apartment.

'Get everyone out of here,' she said to Jill who seemed grateful for an order. Two EMTs rushed past her, and Frank and Noah scrambled out of their way. The techs wedged a foam block around Kennedy's head and slid her onto a backboard, rising together on the count of two.

Frank and Noah followed them to the ambulance.

'I'm going to ride with her,' Frank shouted over the rain. 'Get back to the office, find out who her next of kin is, brief Foubarelle.'

To the ambulance driver she shouted, 'Where are you taking her?'

'King/Drew,' he yelled.

'No, tell Foubarelle where we are,' Frank said, as she jumped into the back. An EMT banged the doors together. She left Noah standing in the rain and swearing.

20

Everyday, in milliseconds, people make decisions that put them on specific paths with destiny. Some are good decisions, like taking the stairs instead of the elevator only to find later that the power went out just as you walked out of the building, or choosing tuna salad at lunch and watching all your co-workers who ate the egg salad get salmonella poisoning. Some decisions don't have such good outcomes, like taking the freeway instead of the interstate and hitting gridlock that makes you miss an important meeting. Or doing something seemingly trivial that creates a fatal domino effect, like Frank did when she spitefully ignored the half-and-half on the grocery list.

Mag and Frank had been lucky enough to work the same shift that day. They'd gotten off late, as usual, but Mag had been done earlier than Frank. On the drive home she'd asked Frank to run into the liquor store for a pint of half-and-half for Angie.

Angie was Mag's best friend from high school. A pilot with American Airlines, sometimes Angie stayed with them for a night or two on a layover. She and Mag would be up till the early morning, laughing and catching up on news from home while Frank fumed in bed. Despite the fact that Mag clearly adored Frank, and that Angie was happily married with two kids, Frank always felt second best when the two friends were together.

Angie was so much like Mag—outgoing, vibrant, adventuresome —all the things Frank wasn't, and she had convinced herself that sooner or later Mag and Angie would end up together. Frank would sulk jealously throughout