foot steps...

         Furtive eyes searched the entrance to the distant black alley. Sure of total solitude the dark figure darted across the street to the welcome maw of it’s shadows. Quietly the hunched form of a man moved deeper into the darkness.

    After a short while he slowed his pace and listened to te noises around him. A silence broken only by an occasional drip of water from some unseen pipe or the scurrying of the padded feet of one of the rats in the darkness. A noise he recognized and was thankful not to see their owners there in the shadows. Rats had always repulsed him but this night he had no choice but to share their abode in his escape from some nameless pursuers. Continuing quietly along the alley. Thoughts of why he was there began to assail him.

    “Get em’ up!” the gunman yelled directing the short barrel of a thirty eight at a customer towards the back of the store.  

    “Over here… Come on, MOVE IT!” he yelled, again emphasizing the point by cocking back the hammer on the pistol, “on the floor. Both of you. Don’t try nothin’ funny and nobody gets hurt!” By this time the fat store clerk had come from behind the counter and laid down next to the customer. With the two on the floor. The nervous gunman stepped around the counter to the opened register and began stuffing bills from the tray into his pocket. Lifting the tray he scattered change across the counter as he reached for the twenties beneath it. Stepping back around the counter and turning towards the two on the floor. A reaction slowed by years of abuse out of a bottle prevented him from stopping the foot that came from the floor and connected with his mid section. Fighting for the air that had been forced from his lungs. The gunman crashed into shelves of canned goods stacked behind him. With an oath he fought to bring up the gun as the fat man, surprisingly fast for his size was now trying to take the gun away from him.        

    Bringing up his own foot. The gunman sent the clerk sprawling back wards as unconsciously he raised the gun and fired. Above the report of the shot he could hear an audible, “UMPH!” as the fat man slid down the facing of the counter to rest on the floor. A death white pallor crossed the face of the mortally wounded man as he stared at his own life’s blood flowing freely from a neat little hole in the middle of his chest.

    Turning the robber, now murderer directed his pistol at the customer who had regained his feet and was backing away with a look of terror on his face. Cocking the pistol, the gunman took aim and then as a second thought bought a thumb up to release the hammer back to safety. With a last look the cold blooded bandit turned and ran out the door into the night.

   From street to street, alley to alley his memories continued. The turning on of a light at a second floor window slowed his pace. Now almost at a crawl he continued down the dark cause way murmuring to himself.

      “I should a shot him too!” The gunman thought stepping carefully over and around the trash strewn up and down the length of the alley. At it’s end he moved slowly to peer around the corner to keep from being seen. Spying no one and verifying the solitude of the street before him. The gunman started across to the adjoining alley. In the distance the howling wail of sirens quickened his pace to reach the sanctuary of darkness that beckoned him into it’s quite and shadow less bosom. Reaching the dismal quiet of between building shadows. The gunman peered ahead looking for it’s end. An occasional light here ad there broke the darkness. Their distant glow giving up no ending in the distance. Slowly, carefully the man’s pace moved him as here to the strewn trash threatened his anonymity. In a low voice he spoke aloud his thoughts in the darkness.    

    “I’ll just stay in da alleys all da way home.” As if in answer the

creaking of a fire escape echoed ominously. With a start he dropped low and listened for the intruder that had broken the silence. Hearing nothing, the fugitive continued down the dark causeway.

    Minutes passed slowly as the quiet worked hard on his nerves. On now tired legs took he looked for the exit ahead as the entrance disappeared from sight far behind. Step by step, minute by minute each movement took him deeper and deeper into the shadows when…

    “Clomp, clomp, clomp…” An echo of foot steps reached his ears

from behind. The gun man flattened against the wall and cursed the

darkness which, though having hidden him, now hid his pursuer.

   For several minutes he stood straining to hear a resumption of the echoes that had broken the silence only a breath’s time before. Hearing only his own ragged breathing. Frightened hands released their strangle hold on the wall and a quickened pace took him quietly on down the alley.

    One step, two steps, three.. Again the clomp, clomp, clomp of foot steps resumed from behind him. Faster the gun man moved with the resumption of the foot steps hoping to evade the almost silent pursuer from his rear. With each new step the echoes grew louder and louder pushing him on at a reckless pace. Spying a line of trash cans. The man dropped and aimed the drawn pistol into the darkness. As he stopped so had the foot steps. For long minutes silence reigned as a cold sweat beaded on his brow to run down into squinting eyes, the sweat clouding what little vision was left to him by the darkness of the alley. Seconds more ticked by before he gathered courage enough to turn and run.

    Now, instead of carefully picked foot falls. All caution was

thrown to the wind as the gun man ran through the trash instead of

over it and into the cans instead of around them. Falling time and

time again over the obstacles strewn through out his path he pushed harder to escape his pursuer. Finding it harder and harder to get up. He puffed as tortured lungs cried out for the rest they needed to recuperate from the abuse they’d been put through for long years and now this seemingly end less night. Stumbling on and on the frightened gun man muttered incessantly.

    “They won’t take me.. Not.. Alive. They won’t.. TAKE ME!”

    “CRASH!” He collided with the alley’s end and fell noisily among

the many cans lining the wall that had loomed up before him. Laying on the ground. The cold sticky flow of blood running down his fore head helped bring him out of his stupor as the ceaseless “clomp, clomp, clomp,” got louder and louder. Nearer and nearer it’s echo was increasing with each heart beat.

   “NO!” He yelled crawling to the wall and feeling for any opening

big enough to let him escape. Turning like a cornered rat. The gun

man lifted the pistol and fired the first four shots of the five remaining him down the alley way.

    “YOU WON”T TAKE ME!” His scream echoed as the foot steps

continued.

    “NO!!” He screamed with his last breath as he placed the gun to

his head and fired off the last round in the chamber…    As the echo

of his final shot reached towards the entrance of the alley. The sounds of foot steps ceased as a young boy reached over and turning off his tape recorder and looked over at his friend.

    “What was that?” He asked, rewinding the recorder.

   “I don’t know,” the second boy answered adding, “maybe he

tripped over a trash can. Do you think we scared em?”

    “Sure we did. Wouldn’t it scare you to hear some one walking

behind you in an old dark alley.”

    “Yea, I guess it would,” he answered, “whatta ya say we do it again

tomorrow night. This is fun!”

      “Yea, and let’s record some chains rattling too and how about….”