Rita Royale 2 (The Beach House). Terry JD Anderson
I don’t like seeing people lonely, Rita.”
“I know you don’t, Picasso. I’m worried because you’re too young to get involved with Amanda. She’s a grown woman.”
“We just like talking to each other. Its not like a real date. She really is a lesbian.”
Rita grinned. “Okay. She did seem nice.”
“She is nice, Rita.”
“What about your buddies at the pier tonight?”
“Its boring hanging out there. I’d rather have dinner with Amanda.”
“Yeah. Well I’m going to try my luck at poker tonight. I used to play all the time until I joined the military.”
“You’re probably good. You’re good at everything.”
“Not everything. I’m not so good at being a guardian.”
“I like it here with you. I’ve never known anyone like you before.”
Rita stood to her feet, kissed him on the cheek. “I like you living here too.”
“Did I tell you Nicki liked the paintings so much she gave me five hundred dollars today?”
“I’m impressed.”
“She said I could go there anytime I wanted to.”
“Wow.”
“I told her again I was sorry for the graffiti and things I wrote.”
“Maybe tomorrow we can practice using our senses.”
“The eagle was with me again today.”
“You have an eagle spirit, I think. A good thing.” She glanced at her watch. Glanced at the beach. “I guess I’d better roll. Have fun tonight.”
Alex stood to his feet, his arms reached around her back gently. He squeezed her and released her in one easy motion.
She grinned. “What was that for?”
“I just wanted too.”
She smiled, was just about to leave when something felt wrong. She looked at Alex. “Go inside the house. Something’s not right.”
He looked at her, looked at the beach. Walked into the house, Rita right behind him. She ran into her bedroom, returned with a bullet proof vest.
“Put this on.”
“Why Rita?”
“Someone’s out there.”
Alex struggled with the vest, while Rita inserted a full magazine into an extra gun she kept in the computer desk drawer.
She helped him finish putting on the vest. “I hate to do this, Alex, but you may have to use this.” She handed him the gun. “Do as I showed you.”
“Yes, Rita.” He was suddenly afraid.
She peeked out the window, the evening still light, her eyes moved along the road out front, along the beach. Scanned the large twisted driftwood, the rocks near the road. “Come on. We can’t stay in here.”
Rita and Alex slipped out the back door, walked along the side of the house, past the parked motorcycle. They crouched down even with the front of the house. Watched all around. Rita saw a movement behind a large piece of driftwood sunk into the sand. Then another. And another. Three darkly dressed men ran crouched across the road toward the house, AK 47’s in hand.
She glanced at a scared looking Alex. “Go to the corner of the house and watch the back yard. Shoot anything that moves.”
He looked at her, eyes wide. Moved quickly. The three men neared her front gate, faces covered in black balaclavas. Rita waited. As they entered the yard they split up, one man walked around the opposite side of the house, the other two walked toward the front porch.
She stood up from her hiding place, completely surprised both men. Her bullets entered the nearest man’s brain before he could react, the pistol reports echoed loud. The second man aimed his rifle. She fired again. Pop pop pop. The man crumpled quickly to the ground. The third man was now on the other side of the house. Rita jumped over the short picket fence, ran along the front of the porch. She chanced a look around the corner; a bullet glanced off the side of the house. She ducked as another shot sent wood splinters flying from the exterior wall.
Rita ran onto the porch and inside the front door, moved quickly to the back door. She hoped Alex knew where the man was. She opened the door slowly; saw the man still looking toward the front. She fired twice. One bullet in the leg another in his shoulder. His rifle fell from his hands as he slumped to the ground. She ran down the steps toward him.
“Alex.” Rita called out, pointed her pistol at the man on the ground.
He peeked around the corner. She saw his face. She said, “Go to the front and watch the street. If you see anyone, fire a shot into the air.”
He nodded. Rita looked at the downed man.
“Okay you bastard. Who are you working for?”
His eyes glared at her from behind the balaclava. He screamed. “Allahu Akbar.”
Rita stepped on his leg wound. “I asked you who you work for.”
“Allahu Akbar.”
She shot him twice in the head. Rita eyes were like a green fire, her blood hot like her pistol barrel. She glanced behind her at the back yard. Saw no one. Ran along the side of her house to the front. Looked at the beach and up and down the road. People now leaving their houses, some standing on the road. She walked from the yard and stared at the beach holding her pistol with both hands, ran toward the ocean. A man jumped up from behind a rock, fired his rifle, his bullets missed her by inches. Rita reacted, fired several shots, each of her bullets hitting him in the chest.
She turned and looked at Alex standing on the driveway. Heard the bird cry out in her mind. Watched Alex turn around, the sound of a gunshot, watched the boy fall to the pavement. Her heart pounded as she ran toward him, spotted a man just inside Stella’s yard. She fired at the man as she ran, her bullets missing, the man aiming his rifle. She kept up a rapid fire, her bullets slammed into his face and chest. The man collapsed on the grass.
Rita ran to the unmoving Alex. She knelt down beside him, stared at his face. His eyes were closed. Tears slipped from her own eyes. She saw the bullet lodged in his Kevlar vest. She placed two fingers on his neck. Felt a pulse. Talked to him softly.
Stella soon appeared beside Rita, knelt down next to her. “Is he dead?”
Rita shook her head. “No, but he’s hurt. Go call an ambulance and the MPs.”
Stella walked as fast as she could back next door to her house, while Rita caressed the boy’s face gently. He was coming around now.
Alex opened his eyes. “Rita, I’m sorry. I couldn’t shoot.”
She smiled. “Never mind that. Just lay still and the ambulance will be here soon.”
“I didn’t sense anything bad like you did.”
“It will come in time.”
He stared at her face. “I love you, Rita.”
She wiped a tear and nodded. “I love you too, Picasso. No more talking until the ambulance arrives.”
Thirty minutes later, the entire beach road and Rita’s house were swarming with MPs, the ambulance with Rita and Alex already at the hospital. Dixie arrived at the hospital. Found Rita in the waiting room and sat next to her on a hard plastic chair.
“How is Alex?”
Rita just looked at her. “They’re checking for any internal damage.”
“Someone said you killed five of them?”
“I