A Story – Beat That, Wayne!…..

I’m late with this story due to me not checking my dates.  The joys of being too busy!

It’s for Icarus’ Flight To Perfection, the brainchild of Cormac Brown.

I chose one of the sentences, which appears in red at the end of the story.

Hope you enjoy.

Beat That, Wayne!

“Pull!”

The clay pigeons shot across the sky, high and low. The shotgun exploded once and then twice, the lethal shot hurtling towards their target at a speed of over 300 metres per second. Instantly the clay targets were reduced to small clouds of brown dust.

“Great shot, Harry! Well done.”

“Bravo.”

“You’re on your game today!”

There were shouts coming from everywhere. I could feel the pressure mounting as I walked up to the podium.

“Fine shooting there from Harry Webster,” the announcer began, “The next finalist is, Wayne Chisholm.”

There was a cheer from the crowd as I stepped up to my position on the podium.

“Beat that, Wayne!” Harry said, as he nudged past me.

I tried to ignore him but my nerves were getting the better of me. I picked up my Beretta 686 with shaking hands.

Beat that, Wayne!

I placed two cartridges in the up and over barrels, the red casing tapping against the inside of the chambers. I glanced at the small crowd, noticing a few heads going together and whispering.

‘They know my nerves have gone,’ I thought. Or was I just being paranoid?

Beat that, Wayne!

I couldn’t get that remark out of my head: that smug voice of Harry Webster, the reigning champion of The Tall Trees Clay Pigeon Challenge.

I pushed in the second cartridge and cocked the gun. A quick look at the audience confirmed my paranoia. They were pointing at me and talking amongst themselves, their laughter growing louder with each second.

I lifted the Beretta to my shoulder.

Beat that, Wayne!

The laughter was getting louder now: the announcer was even joining in, his enjoyments of the situation booming from the speakers. Sweat trickled down my forehead, salty droplets hanging from my eyelids.

I steadied the shotgun, tucking it tight into my right shoulder and tried to block out the growing laughter.

Beat that, Wayne!

“Beat that, Wayne! Beat that, Wayne!” I screamed and spun round, pointing the gun at the head of Harry Webster. The look on his face was one of pure horror: the wet patch on the front of his pants was one of pure piss.

The salty tears on my eyelids suddenly decided to run into my eyes, momentarily blinding me. That was when I felt the force in my right shoulder and an explosion, followed by screaming and shouting. I blinked hard to clear my vision and was horrified to see a headless Harry wobbling on shaky legs.

I dropped my shotgun and it exploded again. Its deadly cargo took out one of the speakers next to the announcer, reducing him to a quivering wreck on the floor of his podium.

Beat that, Wayne!

I spun round to see the headless Harry stumbling towards me.

Beat that, Wayne!

He was getting closer, raising his arms like the mummy out of the old classic horror films.

Beat that, Wayne!

His hands were near me. I could see blood pumping out of the artery in his mangled neck.

Beat that, Wayne!

Headless Harry grabbed me by the shoulders and started shaking me.

Beat that, Wayne!

“No. No. No.”

Beat that, Wayne! Wayne! Wayne!

“Wayne! Wake up, mate! Harry Webster’s on the prowl. If he see’s you sleeping on the job he’ll sack you on the spot. You know what a wanker he is!”

“Woah!” I woke with a start, “Thanks for that, Phil. Fuck me!”

“You okay?”

And that’s why I don’t own a gun!

“What?”

“Nothing, it was just a dream.”

~End~

Comments are appreciated.

Later!

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12 Comments

Filed under beat that wayne, cormac brown, david barber, david barber's fiction world, icarus' flight to perfection

12 responses to “A Story – Beat That, Wayne!…..

  1. Nicely done David. The authentic details in here add that extra bit of polish.

  2. Alan – Thanks, mate. As usual, it was a rush job as I thought I had another week. Glad I managed to pull something off. Cheers, bud!!

  3. Hey David – this was brilliant! Very tense – and a nice eye for detail. Do you shoot? If not, that makes this even more of an achievement as the writing came across as very accurate!Well done, 'young ' man!

  4. Great story with excellent tension.I don't speak about it much but I own a weapon and keep the actual pistol, magazine, and ammo in three separate location well away from the kids.

  5. Ah, you had me going for a minute! Nice twist!Cormac

  6. The repetition works ever so well here, David!

  7. Great tale, terrific pace – totally believable. Hubby used to do clay-shooting – used to wind up the 'real' hunters (yuk) in our village big time.

  8. Sue – Thanks a lot! It was my usual write it in an hour rush job! Glad you liked it. I went shooting once, a long time ago. I didn't do too bad-24 out of 50 hits, but I kept having this strange feeling that I'd lose the plot and there'd end up being a bloodbath!! And that's why I don't own a gun! Haha!!Beach – Thanks, mate.Cormac – Thank you, and thanks for allowing me to be late.Anthony – Thanks, man. I was a bit unsure about the repetition.Lily – Thank you. I've been once, a long time ago. Read comment to Sue.

  9. Great job of building the sense of paranoia. Good job he doesn't own a gun, I'd say.

  10. Oh David, You really had me there. I found myself holding my breath toward the end, and then? Whoa! Terrific how you built it up and you can just feel his anger and determination, with the paranoia literally eating up his sanity. I totally agree with Laurita. Good thing he DOESN'T own a gun. Frankly, I'd just set the table solely with spoons when he came to dinner…

  11. Nice story David, good build up and reveal at the end, keep it coming

  12. Laurita, Joyce and Rick – Thanks so much for looking. Glad you enjoyed it!

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