The Fire Behind

06/20/11

After two years in state prison, Tyson Lemmon had learned to keep his mouth shut. But this damn sheriff was about to make him lose his shit. Tyson watched Overton’s rheumy eyes in the rearview. It was Overton that sent him up and the day of his release, Tyson was surprised to find Overton there to give him a lift home. Some good luck for once. It’d make it easier to get the smug son of a bitch back for taking two years of his life.

But first, he had to keep quiet a few minutes longer.

“You know them Clang boys still have a beef with you over your wife?” Overton’s red cheeks jiggled as the car bounced over corrugations in the road.

Yeah, Tyson knew. Dexter Clang had sent him on that marijuana haul and must’ve tipped off the Sheriff. All because he’d taken Sadie away from the Clang’s video porn industry. Tyson didn’t understand how those Clang bastards used their own cousin that way.

Overton wiped sweat from the back of his neck. “Damn hot in this holler,” he said. “Never was nothing good come from here.” He glanced up into the rearview again. “Except maybe that daughter of yours. What’s her name? Sissy?”

Tyson felt his thighs tighten on the seat.

Overton’s eyes brightened. “Yeah, Sissy. Near five now, right?” A long, whistling breath fluttered his lips. “Near to budding. I hope them Clang boys hadn’t got a hold of her.”

The words were out before Tyson could stop. “I’ll kill anyone that touches her.”

Overton glanced back over the seat. “You will now?”

Tyson lurched forward as Overton stepped on the brake. The car crunched to a halt on the road.

“You keep talking like that, you might not even make it home, boy,” Overton said.

Tyson’s fist shook over his knee. In ten minutes, they’d cross Antelope Gulch and that’s where Tyson had wanted to make his move. That’s where he’d be able to escape from the fat ass Sheriff, hide in the caves, and pick his way back to Sadie and the kids without letting on where they were. But he had to go and open his big mouth. His breath came faster and harder from his throat.

“Simmer down.” Overton clicked his seatbelt loose and it hissed across his belly. He opened the door and Tyson smelled the sage grass and the blooming dogwood.

The sheriff pulled his rifle out and laid it on top of the car, then he lowered his huffing face into the rear window and spoke to Tyson through the glass. “Sadie called her cousins the other day. I guess she got lonely. I figure they’re just about to that hidey-hole you set up.” Overton’s fingers tapped the car roof. “I’ll unlock your door, hear? It’s near sixty yards to the treeline. I’ll spot you seven seconds.”

Overton reached down and thumbed a button. The door clicked and Tyson glanced at the sheriff’s belly pressing a sweaty oval against the window. He wouldn’t be able to get around the car before the rifle fired, but perhaps he could reach the treeline with that head start. Cursing, he swung open the door and ran.

One, Tyson counted, looking at the sky wide and free overhead.

Two. The dry, rain-starved grass whipped his fists as he pumped his arms.

Three. His entire life had been like this, damn it.

At four, Overton fired. A bolt of bright pain shattered through Tyson’s right shoulder and he fell into the waist-high sage, dirt tufting up into his face from his breath. The front of his shirt went sticky and warm, so Tyson knew the bullet had passed clean through. He pulled himself toward the treeline, but the grass shuffled and he heard another shot clip through and thump into the dirt a foot away.

“You dead now, boy?” Overton called.

Tyson heard the scrape of the rifle leaving the roof of the car.

“Let’s just make sure then,” Overton said.

A few breaths of silence and then Tyson heard a crackling. He smelled smoke. Flames danced through the dry grass. Overton laughed on the road. Tyson steeled himself. He waited as the flames leapt through the grass stalks, the sage shriveling into black sticks until he felt heat raise the hair on his skin. Then Tyson pushed up, stumbling toward the trees through the purling smoke. Overton fired twice, but missed and Tyson reached the cool shadow of the dogwoods, running as he always had from a fire that was just behind.

 

~ fin ~

Brad Green lives in Texas with his wife and three children. His work appears in Needle, The Minnesota Review, The Texas Observer, Surreal South '11, and elsewhere. He's an associate editor at PANK magazine and can be found online at http://about.me/bradgreen.

Thank you, sir!
Brad Green
June 24, 2011
Oh, that damn Overton. He has lots of schemes.
Brad Green
June 24, 2011
Thanks, Sabrina!
Brad Green
June 24, 2011
Made me want to cheer like I'd seen a touchdown scored. Way to lock us in the car and make us feel those flames on our back, Brad.
Matthew C Funk
June 22, 2011
Made me want to cheer like I'd seen a touchdown scored. Way to lock us in the car and make us feel those flames on our back, Brad.
Matthew C Funk
June 22, 2011
Shoulda known them Clang boys couldn't operate without some official assistance, Ty... nicely done.
tpluck
June 22, 2011
Love this story, Brad. "...running as he always had from a fire that was just behind." Excellent writing.
Sabrina Ogden
June 21, 2011
Haha, AJ. Nice. Thank you!
Brad Green
June 21, 2011
Friend of mine told me once: "All prison dreams and schemes are just as solid as raisinjack and cheap dope. They don't last out the gate." And Tyson forgot that, no matter what they say or how buddy buddy they get -- cops ain't your friend. "He fired at four" ought'a tell you that. Then he (literally) lights you up? Man get your ass back to the pen and beg them to put you back inside, brother. No future for you out here. Hits hard as a steelbelted radial on a Bott's dot at eighty-five mph. Cool.
AJ Hayes
June 21, 2011
I appreciate you reading and taking the time to comment, Kathleen.
Brad Green
June 21, 2011
Thank you very much, Chris!
Brad Green
June 21, 2011
Nicely done, Brad ~ The Fire Behind is an awesome read. Congrats!
Kathleen Ryan
June 20, 2011
Very well done, Brad. Suspenseful and razor sharp.
Chris Rhatigan
June 20, 2011
Many thanks, Court!
Brad Green
June 20, 2011
Thank you, Mike.
Brad Green
June 20, 2011
Thanks, Jeff. Spend some time here and I think you'll find several stories that will appeal to you. All of them offer up something good, but check out the stories by Rawson and Hammon.
Brad Green
June 20, 2011
Nicely done, man. You've got a hell of a vivid world going here for such a short piece.
June 20, 2011
Strong writing, Brad. This story really grabbed me. Loved the countdown.
Mike Miner
June 20, 2011
Great suspense for such a micro story. Countdowns are nice for that. But it works especially well because that moment comes so suddenly to a reader expecting Tyson to be the aggressor. Well done.
Jeff Questad
June 20, 2011
Thanks, David. The continuation is a longer story that is currently in submission.
Brad Green
June 20, 2011
Thank you, Paul!
Brad Green
June 20, 2011
love it man. building up suspense in 700 words is hard as hell. plus there's tons of detail and you stick the landing perfect with the fire. nothing resolved but it HAS to end there, you know?
davidjameskeaton
June 20, 2011
Great, tense, tight writing.
Paul D Brazill
June 20, 2011
Thank you for reading and commenting, Jane. I appreciate it!
Brad Green
June 20, 2011
Wow. I had to hold my breath reading this. I'm not sure I'm breathing yet. Very realistic and thus doubly frightening--many times frightening! Great closing line.
June 20, 2011

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