Everybody on the street hit the deck quick. Folks might have been screaming, but it was so damn loud all you could hear was the bangs. Sounded like we were in a goddamn war zone. The action was aimed at the black car. The windows exploded. Then, you could see the bullets hitting the body of the car. Little holes popping up all over. Then, it stopped.
My ears were ringing like crazy. I saw people talking, but I couldn't hear nothing, and I doubt they could neither. Now, this next part, I don't know how I noticed it, but I did. Across the street, in the first floor window there was an old woman just staring out the window with the strangest smile on her face. It was shocking. Like, everyone is freaking out, but she looks like she's watching the Macy parade...or like she was looking at her grandkid finger paint. Like, touched. Proud. It made my blood run cold.
Now, I don't want to make this next part seem like I was being brave. It wasn't bravery. I don't know what it was, but it sure wasn't bravery. So, anyway, I ... not decided, it wasn't a decision. I felt like I had to go look in the car. Maybe there was a woman in there. A young kid. Maybe they weren't dead. I've had a little medical training, and maybe I didn't want to live with the knowledge that some poor SOB bled out while the cops were on their way.
I was scared shitless if you want to know the truth. Scared because I didn't want to see anything terrible and scared because I knew I was walking into a potential death trap. The shooting had stopped, but I doubted the guns had evaporated, you know? I didn't want to die. It was fucking stupid, truth be told, but I did what I was compelled to do. Like I said, it wasn't necessarily a choice.
So, I'm walking up to the car, and I start getting this funny feeling. Like, uncomfortable. Squirmy. But I couldn't stop myself to think. It's like my brain wasn't mine anymore. I wasn't making the decisions. It's hard to explain. This next part you're not going to believe, but I swear it on a stack of whatever the fuck you find sacred.
The car was empty.
It was shot to hell, perforated, really. Holes in everything, but no blood. And there was nothing inside the car. No box of tissues. No trash. No smokes. No old cokes. If it wasn't for the holes, it would look showroom, see? No blood trail out of the car, either. And I was looking at it the whole time, minus the thirty seconds I saw that creepy old lady.
I freaked out. I turned around and started running. Next thing I know, I'm pounding on the door of the old lady's apartment. The door opens and it's a goddamn supermodel. Most beautiful woman I ever saw. I stood there for a minute trying to figure out what to say. She just stares at me. So, finally, I say "the old lady. Where is she?" This woman looks at me like I'm crazy. No old woman lives there she says.
Then, I heard the most terrible noise I ever heard in my life. Sounded like a rusty gate being torn off its hinges. It just keeps getting louder. Like it's coming from everywhere. If felt like it was tearing me apart. I covered my ears, but I swear I could hear it in my skull just as loud. I didn't even look at the supermodel. I just got out of there.
Outside, everyone is covering their ears, same as me, and they all have this terrified expression on their faces. Just like I had, I figure. Then, like their heads were all on a string, they look up at the roof of the baptist church across the street. You're not going to believe me. I don't even believe it. Sitting right on top of the brass cross is a raven. Shining black. Screaming its head off. And ... shit if that raven wasn't six feet tall.
I guess my mouth must have about hit the sidewalk. And just as fast as it started, the sound stopped. That raven looked up and down the street. I looked where he was looking and, when I looked back, he was gone.
I figure you'll hear about the same thing from everyone. If they're honest. If they don't mind sounding crazy. I don't care if you think I'm crazy.
It happened just like that.