Slim Or No Chance

Dark short story. Don't mess with boyfriends

‘WE ARE RUNNING out of time,' said Stu. He upped the pace of his jog. His snub nose pistol was working its way loose in his waistband.

'Relax, we've got ages,' answered Alex. 'Watch you don't drop the shooter.'

Stu grabbed for his weapon as it cartwheeled towards the runway. The blast stunted Stu; it killed Alex. Stu collapsed next to his friend. He tried and failed to shake life back into him. The hole in the front of his face was not for talking or eating. The hole at the back of his head was more extensive and splintered the skull. Stu wanted to cry. Brutal men don't cry. He ran.

---

Two men jumped down the plane's stairs.

'Who the hell is that?' said the man, wearing a blazer and cap. He pointed to a bloody body.

'Never mind 'im. What the hell happened? He didn't off himself, or the gun would be here. So, who did it, and where is he?'. His icy grey eyes scanned the shrub line bordering the runway. Tall grass flexed.

'Clean that up,' he said, pointing to the body as he sprinted towards a patch of trampled grass.

The pilot scratched his head. His passengers would not be willing to help him. Likewise, they wouldn't want a body on the flight. There was nobody at the small airfield. He went to the hangar and fetched a trolley.

---

'Butch, what the hell is going on?'

'That is what I'm trying to discover, Mr Jacobi.' The bodyguard clicked off the mobile as he stooped under branches.

Broken twigs cracked as he moved on. Stu watched his every move.

'Come out,' Butch said. He didn't need to shout. He guessed Stu was nearby. He ducked missing tree overhangs and stubby clumps of greenery. Butch bowled ahead, not noticing the facial scratches. The gun cracked; he heard that and felt it. Stu stumbled forward, moving leaves aside to check on his accuracy. Butch had crumpled into a heap.

Inside the pilot hastened, pulling Alex’s dead body onto the hanger's trolley. He moved ahead; the plane stood between him and the tree line.

'Now what?'

There was no sign of the men who entered the shrubs. The pilot rushed up the steps.

'What is going on?' he asked those sitting inside the private jet.

'Butch must be dead. We had better go. Be quick.'

'What about this body?'

'Christ, I don't know. Dump it in the hanger. And get a move on.'

The pilot rolled the body off the trolly under the plane's tail end. He chucked his blazer and hat after it. Then he pushed the empty trolley through the hanger doors and waited with it.

Stu rounded the plane from the rear. He clipped a hooked wire to Alex's clothing and body and attached it to the plane's landing gear. He hastened into the cockpit wearing the pilot's jacket and cap.

'About bloody time,' was shouted from the rear.

Stu needed to familiarise himself with the controls. It had been a while.

'What are you waiting for? Let's go.'

The engine fired, and the craft rolled forward. Its speed increased and took off. The discussion became more heated between father and daughter behind Stu.

'Sonya, I told you to leave that useless son of a b…'

Stu left his seat, stood and turned to face his passengers.

'I take it you are talking about me?'

'Oh, Stu,' she said.

'What the f…' Her father couldn't finish his sentence as a bullet buried between his eyes.

Sonya was more worried about the blood splashing her new Chanel frock.

'Stu, thank God. You have saved me from him and his domineering rules and monster mates. Now we can be together.'

'Yeah, right? I wanted to spend my life with you. Until I found out about Alex, it was time we went different ways.'

She looked surprised for a moment. ‘But Stu, darling, we can be together forever.'

Stu turned and checked the controls as he stretched below the co-pilot's seat and pulled out a parachute. He noticed the coastline was below. He shrugged on the backpack.

'What are you doing?'

'You said you wanted to spend the rest of your life with me?'

'Yes, yes, I do, I will.'

Stu chuckled, 'Well, that won't be long.' He checked his watch and pulled out the pistol again. 'The ex-pilot is phoning the police, saying someone has stolen his plane—a young man with his girlfriend. By the way, your lover, Alex, is strapped under us. When the plane hits the water, he will come loose.'

'Why? What are you talking about?'

'I loved you. But I also enjoyed learning the tricks of your father's trade and even juggling a shooter. It's a pity you didn't see the simple circus trick I learned to shoot Alex. I was proud of that.' He smiled.

Sonya fought with her seat belt. Stu raised the pistol once more. Fake tears dripped from Sonya's chin.

'I'll do anything for you,' she said, 'Now Dad is dead, we can enjoy his money travel the world.'

'That reminds me, I need you to sign this.'

'What is it?'

'It's your will, dated last week. You have willed everything to me after you get the same from dear daddy.'

A bullet entered her thigh.

'Sign it.'

She screamed in agony, clutching the leaking flesh.

'The next one hurts more.' He pressed the barrel to the other leg.

She scratched her name on the last will and testimony.

Stu unclipped her seat belt, knowing the pain in her leg wouldn't allow her to put up a fight. But she would try to get to the controls.

'Oh, this is for you.' He handed her the snub. She snatched it, aimed and fired.

Click, click. Empty.

He opened the pilot's door and jumped. The plane flew on over the channel's choppy waves until it would run out of fuel.

---

The pilot's sister cruised her tiny fishing boat to pick up Stu. Her brother was answering police questions.

'Yes, officer, they took off without me. I do not know what they were thinking of. My boss, his daughter and her boyfriend.'

---

The trio of the pilot, his sister and Stu, enjoyed a celebratory meal. The wills would take some time to be accepted.

'No rush,' they all agreed. The second bottle of red was ordered. The waitress smiled as the restaurant door opened. A well-dressed young lady limped towards their table.

'Shall I fetch a chair?'

All smiles faded as she pulled a snub-nosed pistol.

'Remember this? It has bullets this time.'

The waitress ran for cover. Three diners slumped forward and looked closer at their cheese and biscuits.

The END

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