Salon has published part eight of my novel-in-progress, Themepunks. In today's installment, the shanty-town finds itself under siege, and shots are fired:
He pulled out the megaphone and went to his window.
"ATTENTION POLICE," he said. "THIS IS THE LEASEHOLDER FOR THIS PROPERTY. WHY ARE YOU RUNNING AROUND WITH YOUR GUNS DRAWN? WHAT IS GOING ON?"
The police at the cars looked toward the workshop, then back to the shantytown, then back to the workshop.
"SERIOUSLY. THIS IS NOT COOL. WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?"
One of the cops grabbed the mic for his own loudhailer. "THIS IS THE MIAMI-DADE COUNTY SHERIFF'S DEPARTMENT. WE HAVE RECEIVED INTELLIGENCE THAT AN ARMED FUGITIVE IS ON THESE PREMISES. WE HAVE COME TO RETRIEVE HIM."
"WELL, THAT'S WEIRD. NONE OF THE CHILDREN, CIVILIANS AND HARDWORKING PEOPLE HERE ARE FUGITIVES AS FAR AS I KNOW. CERTAINLY THERE'S NO ONE ARMED AROUND HERE. WHY DON'T YOU GET BACK IN YOUR CARS AND I'LL COME OUT AND WE'LL RESOLVE THIS LIKE CIVILIZED PEOPLE, OK?"
The cop shook his head and reached for his mic again, and then there were two gunshots, a scream, and a third.
