June 2022 Flash Challenge, Day 9
I hurry my pace and steal a glance behind me.
Damn it.
They’re still there, the three teenage boys following me.
Again, I allowed myself to forget that I’m an eighteen-year-old girl. What is my name this time? The body might be 18, but its rider is much older. And I’ve forgotten the wispy, blond girl’s name.
I want to say Gina or Tina or some other two-syllable, one-two, perky name. Maybe Sara? No, that’s not it.
I want to stop and take her wallet out again, but now is not the best time. Even with the gun and silencer, taking three is a risky proposition. The quiet residential street, daylight, not even noon yet. Who murders before noon? That’s just madness.
The novelty of slipping into the body of a young girl quickly wore off. My other desires have killed off any conventional sexual impulses I had long ago.
I can’t say the same for the three behind me.
I see a man turn left off of Pebble Vale.
Salvation.
Possibly.
I must time this just right, but I’ve done this trick so many times now; I ought to manage it now.
I sense a slowing of the footfalls behind me. For what that trio has planned for me, they want no spectators, especially not any would-be hero.
The man approaches. He’s older than I’d like, but he looks fit enough; then I see the side entrance to an alley.
I grab him by his arm, careful not to touch his skin yet.
“Mister, please help me,” I whisper, making a quick head jerk at the three behind me. I pull him into the alley with me.
For a second, the three are out of sight.
“Take this, please,” I say, handing the gun to my future host.
He takes the gun. Confusion rising on his face.
Patience, sir, just another moment.
His eyes go wide with a thought long held dormant.
Well, he’s in for a big disappointment.
I touch his arm, and then I’m in him. I slam him down into deep unconscious realms.
The girl, Mira, the name lands now as I sail away, swoons. She’s been under for three days. She must think she’s dreaming.
I step into the driveway as Mira faints.
The three hoodlums round the corner and see the fainted girl, but no sign of the man.
They spread out and approach the recumbent Mira.
I take three steps forward, knock out the closest one with a single roundhouse kick. Then I shoot the other two with the gun. The silencer sounds like a movie effect in the lonely alley.
I look down and consider my options.
I think that kick did some damage to Frank’s groin.
He is 19 at the most and looks like a gang member.
Mira is an attractive girl.
“What the hell?” I whisper to myself as I shoot him and re-enter her. Fortunately, she’s still out when I slip back inside. I think I’ll stick with this model for a bit longer.
Stories by Shawn 