All Silent on the Flint

“Shoot! Shoot!” Bobby said. “Shoot!”

The sheriff shook his head, the trance gone, and reached for his .45. The pistol was heavy in his hand as he drew a bead on the corpse. He pulled back the hammer with his thumb and fired.

The bullet ripped through the corpse’s face and the body fell backwards, arms outstretched, submerging itself in the water.

“Why in hell did I do a fool thing like that?” Jones said. “Bobby, that woman was deader than hell. How we gonna explain a fresh bullet hole in the head to the coroner?”

Bobby looked dazed standing in the water. He stood there for about a minute staring at the sheriff.

Jones didn’t speak a word either. They just looked at each other.

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