Spreading

That woman was dead and that bullet went right through her chest! Jackson Krennan couldn't believe his luck. He had always wanted to wonder the streets of the city and find something amazing to tell stories about for once in his life. Enough of Bill's running of the bulls story in the cafeteria. He managed to find a way to fit that damn story in no matter what the topic.


"I can't believe they think macaroni and cheese constitutes an entree in the cafeteria. Next they'll be saying a bag of chips if an entree and we should shell out $5 for the privilege of having a plate full of Doritos!"


"I hear you. When I was running with the bulls in Pamplona, the had a lot of expensive treats at the vendors lined up along the course. Not like I had time to partake since I was running for my life and all."


Jackson hated that guy. To make matters worse, his desk was next to Bill's and he had ti hear Bill use that story on sales calls to bully people into buying one of the products in their catalog that week. Telemarketing is bad enough without this joker telling the same lame anecdotes over and over to guilt someone into a purchase to make up for not having as fulfilling of a life as Bill had.


Finally he had a story to use of his own. Don't miss your opportunity. I watched a young woman killed on the streets out here...her whole life ahead of her. You never know what could happen if you don't grab every opportunity! Jackson had it all running through his head as he doubled over in pain from a piercing pain in his chest. He felt the hot pain of the sidewalk cracking against his forehead and the cold in the pit of his stomach as his body rebooted.


His eyes opened to a pair of white tennis shoes on a sidewalk. He could not tell how long he had gone down for, but he knew one thing. Nobody was coming to check on him. Not with the dead girl in the street. He gathered himself slowly and bit more sluggish than expected to his knees. His first attempt to pull his left foot into a partially crouched pose failed as if it weren't responding to his commands at this point.
After more grunting and moaning than his personal trainer would like to see in a customer, Jackson made it back to his feet in time to see the woman standing in the street again like some undead weeble wobble. Why is she still standing there! I saw that shot go right through her.
He couldn't believe his eyes. Some story this was turning out to be. He had to say something to somebody just to prove he wasn't insane. Luckily, the streets were crowded with people witnessing the whole event. He turned to see if the sneaker lady was still next to him and was taken aback to find she wasn't watching the woman at all. her eyes bore only into him as he turned to face her.


"What are you staring at me for? She's the one still standing after a truck ran her down and a cop shot her in the chest." His voice must not have come back completely after the crack to his head because Jackson heard only the tone of his own voice as a guttural howl.


Something in that tone must have frightened the woman with the white sneakers as she recoiled in horror nearly knocking the couple behind her over backwards. She fell backwards as the couple split not wanting to touch her for some reason. Jackson wanted to make sure she was alright when he noticed those same white tennis shoes she was wearing were spattered red.

Jackson assumed his fall must have caused more blood than he imagined to come out of him. Reaching for his forehead to check for a scrape, he realized he was still holding something in his hand. To his dismay, it was a woman's arm. Further frightening him was his next action as he moved it to his mouth to take a bite.