Stray Bullet

Stray bullet (from Ned Stories)
by william hay

The sound of glass shattering and the “thunk” sound of the bullet hitting the dash certainly had his attention. He couldn’t say later that he’d “thought” about it much. He was so busy reacting.
Swinging the wheel of the car left he was around the corner as a second bullet plowed into the body of the car somewhere behind him. His senses heightened, he almost felt that one as much as heard it. Then he was speeding away into the night.
Unarmed in a foreign city he wasn’t going to go back and ask who was shooting at him. The answer to that would have to wait. Right now he got his comfort from keeping his pedal to the metal. If the police stopped him so much the better.

The bullet had shattered his back window and embedded in the dash above where the cd player sat. The shooter had to be elevated. When he got back to his apartment he saw that the other bullet in the back door had come in high. That left him wondering what the shooter had been standing on since the ballistic path placed him about ceiling height but not on a second floor window level. He couldn’t remember anything at the square that could account for this.
In daylight he’d check it out.

He got out his swiss army knife, gift of a pilot friend, and dug out the bullet in the console.