Storymania - The Good Gun by Russ Bauer

The Good Gun
Russ Bauer

What was left of the truth was being taken away. It made Sonya want to vomit. The newly formed corporate media was declaring that the state ran trucking facilities were having trouble bringing food into the city. The lies seemed to becoming more accepted. It was happening for the third time in two weeks. She tapped at the next page of text on the computer screen. It displayed the latest news report.
Her last customer left the coffee house. Her two fellow workers began cleaning and shutting down the store. The news was spreading fast and this time it seemed as if most people were not taking it to lightly. Groups were forming out on the street. Some looked to be marching towards the food markets and other restaurants in the area. If riots started it would end once the military police were brought into the city.
�If only they still had guns they could go directly to the source and fix the problem.� She thought quietly to herself. The majority of the people had no firearms left. Corporate media had sponsored two months ago a general buyback before all mandatory confiscation began.
Sonya�s friend, George had a distressing look on his face.
�Remember what I told you.� She said in a calm and reassuring manner.
�I think it is time� he responded, remembering there talk on leaving the city and heading towards the countryside. With this trouble the city was shutting down.
�How do you plan on making it out of here.� George spoke seriously as he removed his apron and began getting ready to leave.
�Well at least you�re starting to think in the right direction�, Sonya thought. After working with each other for a year she had been glad that he was now accepting the fact that it was time to stay away from the city.
The other worker left with a quick stare at Sonya as he walked into the crowded street and disappeared. It looked as if he was angry at how she could have known all of this was going to happen. People just were not acting themselves anymore. No amount of fake positive thinking could cover this up. All the years of the �ignorance is bliss attitude� was finally reaping what it sowed. No matter at this time.
George locked the front doors. He and Sonya left down the alley out to the covered parking space were her car was at. Getting closer to the car, they were suddenly approached by a group of four men. �Where are you going�? One of them said to Sonya. She stopped and looked at him. �None of your business.� Her hand reached for the car door. He grabbed her arm. George turned to her side. Two of the others lunged for him. Pinning him to the car. Sonya threw a punch. Hitting the man in the face. His eye was torn open by her small diamond ring, sending him to the pavement. As the fight broke out people on the street began to take some notice. Three men, customers from the coffee shop spotted Sonya in her state of distress. They began to yell and move towards them.
Sonya got her car door opened. George was not a street fighter. His head was being pushed against the rear window. She started the car and backed up. One of the men had his foot near the rear tire. The sudden movement of the car caught his foot and bent his leg downward. The tire ran over him and snapped his leg bone. George began to break free and grabbed onto the side door and roof rack. Sonya saw his action and sped off down the street. The other two thugs faced down the three customers that closed in on them.
Down three blocks Sonya stopped the car. George�s yelling had subsided. He slipped off the roof and got inside. Sonya took this moment to reach into an unlocked console. There she retrieved a compact semi-auto pistol 45 caliber. The small composite handgun slipped into a hidden side holster she had on her purse. George was busy looking out the window.
�Let�s get going Sonya. I�m not much of a brawler.� He said.
They continued off down a side street. Sonya drove defensive as they passed by crowds of people.
�If the lead controller for that media station is looking for me that was not how to do it.� She thought as they neared her apartment. The question why was not difficult. A year ago she was chosen to deliver a message to the lead controller. It was from an underground freedom organization. He despised them. The thought went through her mind that this could be the time she would be picked up for something the media did not like. It was better to have nothing to do with any of that, it was time to escape.
�Only a fool would stay in this place now.� George said. She packed her suitcase and prepared to leave the apartment. He was nervous. Looking out the window he saw people running down the street breaking into a grocery store. Police sirens were heard in the distance but nothing seemed to be stopping the looters. A weapon of some kind had crossed his mind just in case he had another run in with some thugs. He looked around the room. He found a cast iron piece of modern industrial art. It was in similar proportion to a hand axe.
�No gun so this will have to do.� George pointed to the chunk of iron in his hand.
They began to move down the hallway out to the car.
�What are you taking my artwork for?� Sonya turned to him as they moved down the hallway.
�For some protection.� He replied.
� I have something better.� She pulled out her Glock 45 and showed it to him.
�I�ve never used a gun before.� He said. They walked out onto the street.
�Well you will find out the virtue�s of this art piece soon enough.� Sony opened the trunk and placed her suitcase in the back. She looked down the street and heard more rioting.
Waiting at the side of the building was getting boring. Access to the police database had given the lead controller Sonya�s car coordinates. �The cities food supply chain will be secured. The people will give into us. All that was needed was those fools to take that woman out. I will take advantage of this chaos that I helped create.� His thoughts on that subject stopped when Sonya walked out to her car.
�I can�t let you leave Sonya.� A man stepped out from the apartment entryway.
No more hiding in coffee shops. Her past was about to come back to haunt her.
�Who�s he?� George replied as he opened the car door.
Sonya turned towards him.
�It�s a desperate scumbag.� Came a scornful reply.
He stepped out to the side of the apartment building.
�You always hated the streets. You never would go out alone.� She said calmly. Her hand touched the trigger.
�Look at this mess. I made them believe the lie.� He pointed to the grocery store down the street. It was in flames. The people were running away with what food they could carry.
� Power is important for who I work for Sonya.� The man stepped towards her within twelve feet.
�You can help outlaw everything good. But you yourself can have it. You promote confiscation of firearms. Now, the control of food distribution.� Sonya spoke slowly. Watching his moves. George stood by the car holding his improvised club.
The lead controller looked at her with a raised eye. As if not knowing that she was referring to the sidearm holster that was slightly pressing against his gray coat.
His maintained a cold appearance, unaffected by the clamor of the rioting going on.
�The trap had been laid and most of them will not know what has happened.� He replied. A loud noise was heard across the street. He had one last plan on his mind.
�You cannot make people slaves in there own minds�. Sonya replied.
�I�m free�. She began to turn and walk away. Maybe he would not want to do the dirty work of others.
�Sonya!� George noticed him drawing a .357 magnum revolver from his side holster.
�It�s over Sonya�. He cocked the hammer back and brought the revolver to aim.
�With a short reaction of the index finger Sonya turned back from George. She fired four shots in about five seconds. The man flew pack from the impact of the bullets in his center mass. His body landed with the head up against the building. He was dead almost instantly.
George didn�t understand all the reasons behind the circumstances. He expressed some horror at the sight of body on the sidewalk. At least he had lived. Sonya would explain more to him after they left the city.
She looked at her small black pistol. Locked the slide back and reloaded the small ammo clip. She let the slide glide back which locked a bullet into the chamber. One last look and she stuck it back into the holster. Her handgun had served a good purpose.