With Love – Part Three

The police stopped us after we left Deming. I’d seen them at the side of the road with their speed gun. They clearly didn’t know to look out for us yet. I put my foot down. We whipped the dust up as we shot past them, bills flying out behind us. We were both buzzing. She’d fired a couple of shots in the diner but didn’t kill anyone. We didn’t even take anything. We didn’t need to. What were two people laughing and jumping up and down on their death bed going to do with a couple of grand? We already left about thirty thousand dollars on the road behind us, burning in the evening sun. We decided that we were going to die between her daddy’s place and the diner. But we decided that we would die laughing, just as we’d lived.

“Is this it then?” she asked me, looking at the cop car wailing at us the rear view mirror.

“They don’t know about the diner. Or about your daddy.”

She looked at me and smiled. She knew there was still some time on our side.

“How do you know?”

I smiled at her.

“I just do. So what do you want to do sugar?”

“I wanna fucking kill them!” she shouted, laughing, all giddy like, checking the chamber of the gun between her knees. I laughed too. I put my foot down a little more. I narrowed my eyes and looked in the mirror.

“I wanna fucking kill them too.”

She whipped the chamber shut and leant in to kiss my cheek. I watched the car speed past us and slow down in front. I closed my eyes and exhaled. I clutched at the beads that hung from the mirror. I ripped them off and brought them to my lips. I pushed them to hers.

I brought the car to a halt in the middle of the road. The dust came over the car and covered everything. The cops came out of the car. There were two of them. One was fat. The other was all tall and lanky. The fat one was the superior. But none of that mattered.

They slowly walked towards the car. I reached down and held her hand. She looked at me and smiled. She clicked the safety off and held the gun out of view, next to the door. My palms were sweating. Hers were bone dry.

As the fat one got to the side of the car his radio started up. I couldn’t hear exactly what it said, but I knew it said something about a couple in their late twenties driving a red Cadillac convertible. It probably said we were armed and dangerous. But it probably didn’t say that we didn’t give a fuck.

I smiled as he looked at the car. And then at us. And then back at the car. And then to his partner. As he tried to pull his gun she shot him in the head. I didn’t even see her pull it out. The tall one started running back to the car. She stood up above the windshield and fired another shot. He flew forward and crashed against the back of the car. Blood burst all over the back window.

“Yes!” I shouted, slamming my hand against the horn. She started laughing hysterically. I looked up at her. Her long blonde hair was blowing in that desert wind. The orange light from the sun was all across her face. I stood up and kissed her. I could still taste that gravy, mixing with that raw tequila. I knew we could live a little longer. At least as long as the sun that day.

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