Crisper

            “Fall has started for sure,” said Brian.

            “It sure has,” said Ryan.

             Brian tossed his cigarette out the driver’s side window and looked up at the two story frame house across the street.

             “How long has it been,” asked Ryan.

            “Three hours,” said Brian.

            Ryan adjusted in the passenger seat.

             “My ass is killing me. I think I have to lay off the Mexican food for a while,” said Ryan.

            “I wish you would too. I didn’t want to say anything but it’s been an issue for a while,” said Brian.

            “Well, I’m sorry. I’ve asked you a ton of times not to smoke in the car while we’re on a stakeout. Farting obnoxiously is my only defense,” said Ryan.

             Brian laughed and reached down for his paper cup of coffee. Ryan sighed and looked up toward the same frame house.

             “This is so cliché isn’t it? Two cops sitting in a crappy unmarked car watching a house for a drug dealer to come out so we can follow him,” said Ryan.

            “It’s the job,” said Brian.

            “Yeah, I guess,” said Ryan.

             The front door of the frame house opened and out stepped Mac D. He was wearing a bathrobe and was smoking a cigarillo.

             “Here we go,” said Brian.

             Mac D pulled his robe tighter around him against the crisp fall morning. He bent down and picked up a newspaper. A squirrel leapt onto the front porch railing and Mac D jumped. He flicked the newspaper at the squirrel and it scurried off toward the gangway. Mac D appeared to laugh to himself and he started to turn back toward the front door.  A gray car sped down the street passed Brian and Ryan toward Mac D’s house.

             “Oh crap,” said Ryan.

             The car slowed in front of Mac D’s and gun fire erupted through the driver’s side windows. Bullets peppered Mac D and the front of his house. Brian jumped from the driver’s seat of the unmarked car and drew his weapon. Ryan had trouble opening his passenger door. The gray car sped off as Brian ran towards its rear. He got off a few shots but the car pulled out of range. 

             Ryan ran up next to Brian with his weapon drawn. The street quieted quickly. Brian and Ryan looked at Mac D, now splayed out down his front porch, blood running down the front stairs.

             “Call for back-up and an ambulance,” said Brian.

             Ryan nodded and ran back toward the unmarked car and Brain ran toward Mac D. He realized at that moment he could sort of see his breath. Fall had certainly arrived.