Skyrider [Short Story]

Part 2

That was the time I first met him. Another lonely evening, for my tavern has never been popular. A couple of fools in the daytime and almost nobody when the sun is about to wish goodnight. But the silence was soon interrupted.

Skyrider entered the tavern, smashing the doors and approaching the cash desk, hands in pockets and chin up, like a hero, when I was happily cleaning the table. Though not so frequent here at Aquamarini's, those customers keep pouring beverages over their glasses when they get dreamy or drowsy and then exclaim "Wow, I got it all on the table!" Silly people, funny as can be.

"Hey doll," he cheered, "Care to serve some beer?"

I have seen his portrait many times, in various national papers, labeled "Wanted dead or alive". Cocky grin and black goggles hiding the eyes.

That was my lucky hour, I thought. If the law doesn't get him then I will.

"One minute," I said and went away, to the phone in the staff room. Police was waiting for the call.

Then, a bullet hit the wall right near me.

"I know where you're going, doll."

That was bad. Okay, I thought, I won't report you.

In an instant, I learned that calling was not needed. They must have tracked him themselves, for the officer and two more men in suits appeared behind the windows of the tavern; they were approaching the doorway.

"Oh, my friends arrived!" Skyrider jumped over my cash desk and ducked down under it.

"Hey!!!" I yelled.

They entered. I started shivering as they came up to me, standing near the cash desk.

The officer showed me the picture of Skyrider. "Good evening, cutie. Ever seen this man here recently?"

Skyrider was sitting under my cash desk, holding his breath and covering his mouth and nose with his hand.

I was about to say fairly where he was, but something went wrong...

"No."

"Are you sure? Our systems tracked him; his motorbike was found outside this tavern with a pretty good sum of money hidden in a luggage box."

"I have no idea what you're talking about, sir," I minted automatically, like a hammer. "Why my tavern at once? Could he be somewhere else nearby?"

"That's suspicious," the other man said. "We need to search the place."

"No, no, no, gentlemen, that's my tavern, no search here please," I shook my head. Still without a clue why I helped Skyrider to hide, but I didn't want Aquamarini to get raided after all! "You'd better get outta here."

"She said 'get outta here!' " the voice from beneath the cash desk was heard.

For a moment, the patrolmen went silent and turned to the source of the voice.

Argh! I screamed internally. Stupid Skyrider, why did you do that?

"Well, well, well, look who is here!" the officer almost sang. "You'd better get up, Skyrider, we've heard you."

Skyrider shot from under the cash desk and the bullet hit the officer's leg.

"Ouch!!!" he fell down on his knees.

"Sorry, guys, need to run!" Skyrider cheerfully shouted as he jumped up and ran away over the tables standing near.

The officer, still able to handle his gun, shot it at Skyrider. "Not this time!!!"

"Hold him! I'll take the girl!" one of the patrolmen commanded to his fellow and grabbed me in a split second until I managed to run away for my life.

"Want a haircut, cutie?" he bared the jack knife from his pocket.

That was getting bad, for he could kill me right away.

Skyrider rushed to the door and shot his gun, singing something. The patrolman dodged his bullets; Skyrider then shot two randomly – or not so randomly? I fell out of my captor's arms with him flopping on the floor and painfully screaming.

I felt lost; there was emptiness in my head, with knowing nothing of what to do. I could not even run as I was in a state of fright.

The other man almost reached Skyrider who jumped to the windowsill and was shooting from there.

"These are my last bullets!" Skyrider shot twice in different directions and, smiling, threw his gun back, to the window, which shattered it – how could he even have courage to smile? The bullets hit both the officer and the man who almost knifed me.

"You're here!" the other man shouted, grabbing Skyrider's leg.

What was next was hard to tell – I hid behind the cupboard in the corner by that moment. I heard voices and screams of them two fighting, then the sound the door burst open, then – of shattered glass. And then it was quiet.

I sneaked out to see what happened.

That man was lying near a broken table in the pile of pieces of broken glass, apparently dead... The second one and the officer were also lying on the floor with no signs of life – they were shot.

Ever wondered what it is like to be a movie character? I felt exactly so.

Fortunately, nobody else came here this evening; if they had done that, it would have been a biggest rush I've ever seen – and, probably, will ever see.

"Thanks doll. I'm obliged to you," Skyrider ran to me, patted my shoulder and ran back to the doorway.

"You've just ruined my business," I mumbled, still with little understanding of what had just happened. I didn't intend to help him, it happened itself, with no actual participation of mine. Almost everything I actually did was hiding and guessing where to run.

With a corner of my eye, I noticed that something fell from his pocket.

I rushed to where that object fell.

It was a picture. Quite dated, for its edges were shabby and slightly torn.

It had two men in it. One on the left was apparently Skyrider, but... younger? Cheerful like now, but no goggles and neater clothes on, clean and fresh. One on the right looked very much like him, as if he was his brother or at least his cousin – definitely from the same family, their likeness was out of comments. He wore a scarf and that strange hat like all the pilots wear, and smiled, his hand on Skyrider's shoulder.

Who was that man?

I took the picture and dashed outside. Skyrider was about to start the engine when I called him.

"You dropped something!"

"Why the heck are you after me?"

"Is this... yours?" I showed him the picture.

He went puzzled as he saw it.

In a second, he grabbed my hand.

"You're going with me."

"Hey you!" I tried to set free but he was stronger, "Put me away!"

"You now know my secrets, doll," he kicked me to his motorbike.

"Secrets?!" I shouted, "How many secrets c'n ya have?!"

"No time for that."

He threw me on the backseat and fastened me with a belt with both my arms under it. And yes, that belt was tight. I couldn't move.

"You'll like it, doll. The views from above are miraculous."

"Where the hell are we going?!"

"We're going the distance!" he turned to me, grinning, "We're going for speed!"