We're proud to present “Fix Me” by S.W. Lauden, the first crime fiction selection for The M.O.!
This submission received the most votes from our fantastic shortlist, and while the theme was Long Gone, we're sure you'll enjoy this very-short story here and now!
I can't stop pedaling. That's the thing about fixed gear bikes. If the fixie is moving, my legs are moving. Which is a good thing right now, because this muscle car has been chasing me for miles. He's belching smoke and kicking up dirt just like a charging bull.
Somebody has murder on their mind.
I can feel the heat rising up from his engine every time he gains on me. It's a chilling reminder that I'm totally exposed except for a helmet, hoodie, bike bag and shorts. One wrong move away from becoming another stain on the sun-bleached streets of L.A.
And for what? I pass by that bar almost every night. It's full of day drinkers until sunset when the hipsters arrive, drawn like moths to the cheap poetry of its shabby interior. Tonight, this guy sped from the parking lot without even looking. I had to swerve wide and slalom through oncoming traffic to avoid getting killed.
He was squinting to make sense of the road when I caught up to him at the red light. My legs were pumping as I blew by, kicking his passenger door without slowing down. The loud bang snapped him from his stupor, and he swiveled his head in shock. His engine sputtered and growled when the light turned green. We were off to the races.
My best friend Sam died this way, run down by an angry drunk.