The Final Ticks: A Collection of Short Stories

The Man in the Red Polo

I wait in the parking lot in front of the Fannie May, waiting for my sister to come out after her shift ends. I have the car turned off, and my feet shift from pedal to pedal.

I finally got to convince my mom to let me drive with my permit again and now I'm on my last hour to drive to get my license out of fifty. The card is so close, I could almost feel it.

"I want to go in and mess with her," Mom said, a devilish grin wide on her face.

I laugh. "Goodness, Mom, you've had devil's horns all day!"

Mom just laughs and turns to look out the window again, basking in the warm sunlight.

I look behind me and look behind my seat in front if the wheel at my younger sister, who had just come from the dentist appointment, and say, "We could have had a video with a loopy Rebecca!"

She glowers at me. "No."

I grin at her. "But it would have been so much fun!"

Rebecca glares at me again, then turns to stare out the window again.

I flop back into my seat. "Man, she gets laughing gas to fill her cavities, and yet she still is not laughing!"

Suddenly I hear a sharp voice. My head snaps to the right, where I see a bunch of guys talking with their arms crossed over their chests and and their eyebrows furrowed. Three have bandannas across their foreheads and lean on their motorbikes; the fourth is in a blue polo and jeans and has his back against his silver minivan.

The man in the polo holds his hands up, and the middle man in a bandanna raises his arm.

Something glistens in the sunlight. The man's face twists and the other yells again. I can't make out any words.

I whip my head around to my mom, who stares at the scene in shock, fear evident on her face. My eyes widen, and I turn to my sister, who stares out the window, deaf to the world. I hear two sharp bangs and my head spins on my neck as the man in the red polo falls on the pavement, blood seeping from his chest and head.

Rebecca quickly looks over Mom's and my shoulders and her eyes widen. "What should we do?" she whispers.

My fingers fumble to my phone in my pocket and I finally bring it out, staring at the keypad. What was the number for emergencies again? 666? 733? 911? That's it! My fingers feel thick as they move across the numbers, punching in 9-1-1 and I look up as I press the phone to my ear.

The men in bandanas are hunched over the body, and their heads are turned toward us from my sharp movement. My breathing speeds up, and everything on the edge of my vision goes black as I stare at the cold glare of the men.

"911, what's your emergency?"

"I'm in the parking lot in front of the Fannie May and three guys just killed a man and now they are staring at us!"

"What is your location?"

The middle man slowly stands up.

"The parking lot of the Fannie May," I whimper.

"Dear, there are so many Fannie Mays in the area, could you please be a bit more specific?"

Something reflected sunlight in his hand, as he raises his arm.

"There's a Noodle&Company here too." I hear a pop, and glass shards break through, raining down on me and Rebecca. We scream and duck under the dashboard.

The voice in the phone is loud. The screaming from the man is loud. Yet the pounding in my ears is the loudest sound I have ever heard.

"Are you near Woodfield Mall? Hello? Hello? Are you with me?"

"What did you see?! Who's on the phone?! The police?! I'll kill you too! Give me the phone if you don't want to die!"

Two more loud bangs, and I scream as more shards rain down.

"Yes," I whisper.

"Okay, we'll be right there, you just hang on, it'll be alright."

"Okay."

I hear a faint ring of a bell, and all the blood in my face rushes to my feet. No...

A pop, a scream, a thud.

The woman on the phone is still speaking, but I can't make out what she's saying anymore. My cheeks are wet and I stare at Rebecca, who doesn't move.

I hear more shouting, and the low rumble of three motorcycles passes by.

I sit beneath the dashboard, right next to the pedals. I stare silently at the seat I was sitting in only minutes before.

"Are you still with me? Hello?"

Sirens sound off in the distance.

Lights, shine all around me.

The door snaps open, and in a panic, I scream, shifting my weight, trying to scramble away from the bright white circle.

"Hey, hey, wait!" A hand wraps around my arm, keeping me from getting away.

I try to yank myself out of his grasp, but it only tightens. "Stop, stop, we're the police. We're the good guys. Calm down, we're here to help."

My rapid breathing slows, and I look up at his face behind the flashlight. He gingerly picks me up out of the car and places me on the hood of one of the black and white cars surrounding my minivan. I stare at the scene as the same man tells me everything will be fine.

I look behind me at the front of the store.

There are two groups of people surrounding two bodies. One is a man in a red polo shirt, the other is a girl dressed all in black, a bag and keys next to her, blond hair strewn around her.

I look back at my minivan.

A large group of officers swarm it, pulling a limp body out, then a second.

One had short, dark brown hair and wrinkles on her face. The other looked no more than fifteen, long straight hair covering her frowning, freckled face.

Four stretchers come out of the ambulance, and the bodies are placed on them with a blanket covering each of their faces.

My cheeks feel wet, but my chest feels empty. Someone wraps his arms around me, pats me on the back. I stare past his shoulder, at the spot where three men had stood over a man in a blue polo shirt.