Sentenced

“Don’t do it, Ding!”

Henry was scared but he could not let an innocent man be executed in cold blood.

“All of you think I am useless, huh?” Ding aimed a hand gun on the head of a uniformed policeman. “Look at your friends! They’re useless now!”

It was a bloodbath. Those ‘friends’ Ding mentioned were the occupants of the sedan who taunted him hours ago. Now, they were scattered on the street like ordinary litter, their bodies were riddled with gunshot wounds.

“What happened?” Henry tried to calm Ding, who looked determined to keep his hostage company to the next life. The newly-released detainee’s eyes showed manic anger that going back inside a cell was not an option.

“Man, I told you I had information. You did not give me a chance. I talked to your friends instead.”

“Stop shouting they’re my friends. I don’t really know them.” Henry was telling the truth.

“Oh, don’t give that excuse! You’re one of us. Don’t forget that!”

Ding did not want arguments. All he needed was an escape strategy, using the lawman as a shield in his getaway.

The perimeter was overflowing with curious bystanders. Even with the huge risk of getting hit by a stray bullet, they watched the drama as if it was an ordinary film shoot.

Henry believed that marksmen had Ding on their sights. They were probably waiting for the most opportune moment to hit him in the head.

“Come on, man, give it up!” he inched closer, his hands motioning Ding to put the gun down. “Don’t throw you’re life away!”

“Ha! Look’s who’s talking!” Ding spat, the gesture was not only disrespectful but challenging. “Come closer so we could all three go to hell!”

“Look, there’s another way. I will help you.” Henry looked at the hostage, trying to signal him to get ready. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Ding was seething with rage that he pointed the gun toward Henry.

“You fool! You had the chance. You blew it.”

Henry lunged at Ding’s outstretched arm, taking advantage of that split second when the gun was away from the hostage’s head.

Ding tried to retract his arm but it was too late: Henry’s grasp felt like a clamp. With the added weight, he lost his balance, accidentally freeing his hostage in the process.

But he recovered quickly, his gun aimed straight at the frozen figure of the prostrate policeman.

A single shot rang out. A fate was sealed.

BLOGGING   LIFE/STYLES   MY STORIES   WHISPER   ZONE

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