by Kevin Anderson

"Don't know. Thought she was with you."

I took a deep breath. "Figured you both would be up ahead of..." And that's when it started to dawn on me. I had seen Pitt get out of the car, but I hadn't seen... My stomached seized up tight as I turned around. "Oh, God."

I hadn't seen Gina get out of the car because she hadn't. My eyes widened as I stared back at her panicked frame tugging frantically at her seatbelt. In the all-consuming rush of self-preservation, Pitt and I had left her there. Couple of real heroes we were.

"She can't get the buckle unlatched," I said. "Come on." I motioned Pitt to follow me. But when I gazed back at Pitt he hadn’t moved a step. His jaw quivered and his eyes were frozen in an unblinking gape.

I wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe he just didn't hear me. "Pitt, come on."

Pitt shook his head slowly, eyes still unblinking.

Son-of-a-bitch.

So there I was about to rush back toward an axe-welding maniac to try to save my girlfriend who has been banging my best friend. And should I be successful in this venture the one who will most likely benefit is my best friend, the same asshole who won't even take a step in her direction.

I turned away from Pitt disgusted. As I started my journey back toward Gina I knew that if there had ever been a bigger shmuck in all of existence, surely his eighteenth birthday hadn't been as crappy as this one.

By this time Mr. El Camino had finished demolishing most of the glass in his own car and he was ready to move on. He staggered toward an abandoned Toyota just behind my car. I figured I had less than a minute before he would move forward again and notice Gina.

If I stayed low and quiet, Mr. El Camino might not observe my approach. I could slip Gina out of my car and we could both be standing next to Pitt before Mr. El Camino was through demolishing the Toyota. It was a nice plan. I'll never know if it would have worked.

When I was about ten car lengths away, Gina looked up and saw me. "Craig! Help! I can't get-" I shushed her by holding my finger to my lips as I ran but it was too late.

Mr. El Camino spun on his heel, glaring in her direction. He withdrew the axe from the Toyota's windshield sending large chunks of safety glass down onto the asphalt. "My credit is spotless. Run it, you'll see –- cha-ching." He strolled toward my car, broken glass crackling under his boots. When he reached the passenger window he leaned over, peering in.

Gina brought her hands up to fend off the man's gaze.
"You cost me my line of credit, you bitch!" He said. "It's not nice to mess with a man's livelihood." He brought the axe up on his shoulder like a baseball player taking a batter's stance. I knew then I wasn't going to get there in time.

My mental picture of him swinging the blade downward into the side window, sending glass shards spraying inward, still wakes me up in the middle of the night. I was still twenty or so feet away and my heart sank as an image of Gina's lifeless body filled my imagination.

But the image faded as Gina's head popped up into view. She had dove under the dashboard narrowly missing the axe and now squirmed to avoid the blade again as Mr. El Camino pulled it from the car. The maniac reared back, weapon held high preparing for another blow. I didn’t think Gina could dodge another swing of the blade so I executed the first idea that popped into my head - get his attention.

Without much thought I pulled something out of my shirt pocket and let it fly. "Hey asshole," I shouted.

Now Pitt and I had been throwing PEZ dispensers at each other since we were eight. With a fully loaded dispenser we both had the deadly accuracy of South African Bushmen with spears. Dumbo wasn't fully loaded, but close enough.

The dispenser tumbled through the air, head over end. Dumbo's wide ears offered the perfect amount of resistance and counterbalance to the lighter stem. Mr. El Camino turned toward me just in time to see a pair of plastic elephant ears and a curled trunk hurtling toward him. Dumbo hit El Camino in the forehead, just off center.

The surprise on his face must have been mirrored on mine as our eyes met. The mental slide I have of this scene reminds me of a cell from a cartoon - that single moment when Elmer Fudd with shotgun in hand finally notices that waskly wabbit, Bugs Bunny, right smack dap in the middle of wabbit season.

"Do you know what it takes to build a well diversified portfolio? Cha-ching, cha-ching." Mr. El Camino said, stepping toward me.

I stopped moving forward about six feet from him, a distance I hoped was out of axe range. "No. Not really."

"I have perfect credit." He pointed to himself and took another step. "I have Dinner's Club and a Platinum Card –- cha-ching."

"That's pretty sweet." I nodded.

"But they say I'm spent." He took another step and I caught a whiff of blood still dripping from his scalp.

"Who says?"

"They cancel my card the same day they send me an application for a new one –- cha-ching -- that says I'm pre-approved!" Spray from his saliva fall just short of my shoes. I was definitely within axe range.

"That's a real bitch," I said, taking a step back.

"I have perfect credit." He gripped the axe handle with both hands. I saw his knuckles turning white and his whole body started to quiver much like I imagine a volcano would right before exploding.

I started to take another step back. "Look, I believe..."

My words trailed off as I watched Mr. El Camino rear up with the axe. In that split second before he swung two choices flashed in my mind - move forward or move back. Mystifying to me even today, I rushed forward and reached for the axe handle just as he swung.

My left hand missed the wood stock, but my right caught it firmly. I tried to twist the weapon outward, but Mr. El Camino brought the butt of the handle up fast, catching my chin.

I staggered back against the hood of a station wagon. I was dazed but still had enough sense to move as the axe blade smash down next to me. I heard the metal-slicing crash of the blade cutting into the station wagon's hood.