Acts of Violence by Ross Harrison

much I hated violence directed at me. And how
much I hated Little Dick Webster.
    The bouncer didn’t
have time to stop himself. Before his brain had caught up with the proceedings,
he’d pulled his little lever. The hook plummeted. I plummeted with it. Little
Dick plummeted with me.
    I’d taken a deep
breath. He was still screaming in pain and rage. My backwards momentum had
pulled him under me. When he hit the water and slowed, the top of my head crashed
down square into his face. It hurt me, but it knocked him out.
    I grabbed hold of
him again before he floated out of my reach. I could feel the bouncer winching
me up again. With the weight of Little Dick too, it was taking him longer. I
pulled the unconscious shit towards me. Reached inside his jacket. Nothing
under either arm. Panic lurched through my stomach. Nothing at his hips. My
only hope was quickly fading. I reached behind to the back of his fancy cream trousers.
There it was.
    Little Dick was
suddenly awake. He writhed and lashed about him. It was too late for him. I
pulled the gun from his belt and shot him anyway. The gun wasn’t as fancy as
I’d have expected from Little Dick, but I guessed it needed to be nondescript
in case he lost it at a crime scene. At least it was waterproof.
    The concussive
effect pushed Little Dick away from me. The heat of the gasses around my hand
was uncomfortable, but the least of my worries. My air was running out again,
but that also wasn’t the problem. The problem was that the bouncer was winching
me out of the water, and he’d almost certainly have his own gun ready.
    I had a choice to
make. And quickly. I could allow him to pull me out and then try to be the
first to get a shot off. Or I could take a shot through the water at him. The
bullet probably wouldn’t hit him, or do any damage if it did, but he’d let me
go again. That way I could shoot off the chain and surface anywhere. Take him
by surprise. But he could always shoot me through the water.
    I chose the former.
Fewer downsides. Or so I thought. I was wrong. As soon as I was above the
surface, I took aim. But the water pouring down me went up my nose and into my
eyes. I couldn’t see a thing.
    The bouncer swore.
I guessed he didn’t have his gun ready after all. I fired in his direction, but
heard the bullet hit something metal. I felt weightless. I fired accidentally
as I hit the water a fourth time.
    I could just make
out Little Dick in the murk below me. He stood on the bottom of the lake. It
was a lot deeper further out, but here it was only twenty feet or so. Red plumed
out of him like smoke from a signal flare. His eyes were wide and his hands
were raised over his head like he was surrendering. I’d only shot him in the
shoulder. He’d drowned.
    I took aim at the
chain. The bouncer would start shooting at me soon. I didn’t know if the
bullets would still do me much damage through the water, but I didn’t want to
find out. I squeezed the trigger, hoping my lack of air wouldn’t disrupt my
aim.
    I felt an unpleasant
force on my feet. I started to sink. When the doughnut bubble dissipated, I saw
that the chain was free of the hook. I reached to my ankles and unwrapped it.
    By the time the
chain was free, I was on the bottom of the lake with Little Dick. He stared
past me, mouth open. Like there was something horrifying sneaking up behind me.
    A small dark shape
floated past my eyes. A bullet. I looked up. Bullets were floating down towards
me. One tapped me on the head. Nearer the surface, I could see streaks now and
then. The bouncer was shooting. He didn’t know I was free.
    I pushed off the lakebed
and swam as fast as I could towards the surface. I swam at an angle to get
further along the bank from the bouncer, but I was desperate for air. It
wouldn’t be much further than where he was looking.
    The closer I got to
the surface the less able I was to pull myself through the water. The less able
I was to hold my breath. But then there was the