“Bob,” he said abruptly. “You remember that report – the part where it said armed and dangerous? And not to approach alone?” He waited while that sank in. “Your missus isn’t armed. Bob. And me, I don’t mind killing people,” he lied. “How about you? Bob. Ever shot anyone?”
“Don’t make me pull this trigger. I will!”
“I don’t think so. I think you’re plan was to corner me, then call the cops. Only, that phone’s not working. Is it, Louella?” He crawled out of the tent and Louella screamed. Trying to hit him with her tin platter, she screeched even more. Anton grabbed her and put his hand over her mouth. Louella tried to get away, but not very convincingly. She seemed to like having Anton hold her. she could have hit, kicked or bitten, she did nothing.
“Drop the gun, Bob,” Anton suggested calmly.
“You ain’t got a gun.”
“No, but I have your missus and I can kill without a gun.”
Bob’s hand shook harder and he went red in the face. Louella grabbed Anton’s hand from her mouth.
“Bob? Honey? Sweetheart?”
Clutching his chest, Bob fell in an untidy heap
© 2018 Dellani Oakes