Gomez’s mind wandered to the knives in his boots.
Why hadn’t he remembered them in the basement? God damn it. He pulled his right pants leg as high as he could. Well here it goes.
Gomez grabbed the table under the edge and flipped it short-ways. Every paper flew through the air and the heavy desk landed on the priest’s feet just below the ankle. He threw his head up and Gomez punched him as hard as he could muster in the throat. He ducked and brought up the long knife. He jumped over the desk, as he and the priest fell downward he maneuvered his elbow over the priest’s wrist. When they landed he kept the pressure on the wrist and the knife sailed on the drifts and drafts in the room.
Father Thompson watched the knife coming. His life didn’t flash before his eyes. That never happens. What he was pondering was how could he possibly survive this situation?
A puppy wandered around the back of the church looking for some food. His pathetic form making headway despite the heat, despite no puddles to drink from, despite…
Gomez flung open the door and his pupils shrunk faster than the scared puppy who fled the scene. He heard the cuts and forming bruises screaming obscenities at his senses. He took off in a southwesterly direction if the sun was to be trusted at half past noon.
The market was always closed on Saturday, there was no patrol tonight. Mason sat in his home watching The Deer Hunter, he had the police scanner on in the kitchen. His wife was making some kind of Italian salad.
“Honey?” She called out.
“I think they just called an ambulance for Father Thompson. You should come here and listen to this.”
There was something in her voice that kept him from groaning as he left his seat. The movie still playing as he entered the kitchen. The scanner crackled an ominous sentence.
“Calling all officers, murder suspect fled the church. Mexican, no word yet on build or any identifying features. Expected to be bloody and tired. Proceed with caution, suspect considered armed and dangerous.”
Oh my god. Oh my god.
Mason’s wife looked at him, he looked at her but not as reassuringly as he’d hoped.
“I’ll be back. I’m going to go to the church. Get the shotgun, if anyone shows up you make sure you know who it is before you open the door.”
She nodded. Mason walked out the door with a pistol and the truck keys. After he shut the door she ran to it and opened it.
“I love you!”
He looked at her from the truck. “I love you too.”