One Day in a Small-Town Desert, chapter 1, page 1

PART I: WELCOME TO TUHANI

Chapter 1: Shots in the Dark

Zhíno Zhudıro tossed his empty beer can out the window and reached into the backseat, fishing around for a gun. The fifteen-year-old Sonla sedan flew straight and true down the dark two-lane highway. Zhíno’s narrow face creased with a scowl, but it wasn’t caused by the rattling of the automobile’s speakers from the Research Suicide cassette’s heavy beat. No, the Ahísıhíta-damned handgun had slid from its spot under the travel bags.

Beside Zhíno in the passenger seat, his girlfriend, Fírí, looked at him and his fumbling hand behind him. Her pale face a ghastly green from the light of the dashboard clock, she tucked some stray strands of her blonde hair behind her ear and opened her mouth.

Over the music and the howl of the wind through Zhíno’s open window, Fírí blurted, “What do you want? Another beer? Do you want me to get it for you?”

Zhíno’s left hand clenched the steering wheel, dark lines of grime in the grooves of his knuckles, while his right hand patted the threadbare backseat and the dirty carpet. He glanced in the rearview mirror as his right hand touched the cold steel of his pistol. The pair of headlights behind them wasn’t much brighter than the stars in the ink-black sky, but that auto was definitely getting closer. It had to be Colonial Enforcers. Or maybe Union agents. Either way, Zhíno was plagued if they caught him. He lifted the Mínumo 9-mm semiautomatic in front of his face to check it in the dimness.

Fírí gasped. “What’s that for?” she shrilled.

“Shut up, Vítí-twin.” Zhíno tapped his gun at the mirror. “We’re being tailed. It’s gotta be the Voro-fucking Enforcers.”

The blonde woman twisted briefly around to look back as the sedan’s engine whined on a slight hill, then whined, “Zhíno, don’t be a Koro-brain.”

Zhíno shifted the pistol to his left hand and flicked up the volume on the music to drown her out. Deep throbbing shook the old auto. Bobbing his head to the music, Zhíno peered ahead into the darkness, searching for a good turnaround spot. It was time to take the offensive.

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