I should run. Flee the scene, but something tugs at me and takes me back into the store.
Blood. A spilt slurpee. The clerk is dead, laying over the counter, his blood sliding forward diving onto the floor below. Sparrow is sobbing behind me, near the drink cooler. Her left hand clenching a smashed beer bottle. There is blood on her jeans. She’s looking right through me towards the clerk. Sirens.
I should stay. Explain to the cops what I heard. Be home by midnight. I should.
Instead I move to Sparrow, kneel down to her position.
“Sparrow”.
Her eyes flicker, catching my voice, breaking her trance.
“Sparrow. Come on, we need to get out of here.”
She relaxes her grip on the smashed bottle, and it falls the few inches to the floor with a clink.
I take Sparrow Sprites’ hand, and before I think about anything else, we are driving in her blue Corvette, past oncoming cop cars and a wobbly ambulance.
We leave the flashing lights behind heading out into the dark.
—-continued