The creak of car brakes echoed nearby. 

Juniper was terrified for the first time in a long time, more so after 'feeling' the guy out. There wasn't much to feel. Blackness made up the majority of the man's range of emotions. At his center was a red ember. That was never a symbol of good intent. It was a seed of merciless pleasure that engulfed the man when he saw others in pain, or inflicted the pain himself. Juniper had only met two men like that. One of them was dead

[gut you like a fish]

and the other was walking towards the car.

"Hey there." Peter's voice sounded official. Though times had 'a changed, he still played the part of the concerned police officer.

Christopher must have turned towards him because Peter whistled. "Whewie. You're all fucked up." Up above, there was a creak of leather, and then a click. "Want me to put you down?"

"Go ahead," Christopher said.

"I'll be honest, I'd have done it whether you were fucked up or not."

"Why's that?"

"'Cause it makes my world go round."

Christopher did not reply.

The man went on. "Still, leaving you to suffer might be more interesting, but I am not, as they say, a complete monster. So I'm gonna shoot you in the head like a responsible denizen of the law. First, I gotta ask you somethin', buddy. Was there anybody with you?"

"Just me and my dog."

"Just you and your dog. Right." He popped his tongue. Click, click, click. "Well, I don't have the time to torture it outta ya. I'll just get to the shootin'. One quick pop in the head."

"Sounds...good."

"Mind if I take your dog?"

"Go for it."

"Mind if I fuck it?"

A raspy cough. "A dead man can't object."

"Right you are."

POW!

In the silence, the shot took over. No birds sang, no traffic noises sounded, no music or conversation rang out. Through the car, Juniper saw Christopher's brilliant blue light shatter. She covered a gasp with her hand. Luckily, the echoes of the gunfire covered up the noise.

Keys jangled. The purr of the automatic window engine reverberated the entire undercarriage of the car.

"Hi, doggie." Peter's voice was sickeningly sweet. "I'm not really gonna fuck you. I was just messin' with that asshole. What I'm gonna do is take you home and make a nice doggy steak outta ya." Juniper heard him open the back seat. "C'mon, boy."

She saw black shoes and paws on the pavement. Peter sauntered to his car. He talked to the dog, his voice becoming fainter and fainter.

"You're a good boy. Kinda cute under all the dirt. Maybe I won't eat you. Naw, I probably will."

Another car door slammed, twice. A car engine started. She heard Peter's car drive away. Juniper badly wanted to get out from under the car and see Christopher, but she wasn't willing to risk it. Waiting was the key to her survival. Peter could be waiting for me to come out. After fifteen minutes, Juniper left her hiding spot.

She carefully shimmied her way out from under the car. Her hands and knees were bleeding from scraping them along the road, but she felt fine. Fine for the moment.

Juniper got up on her knees in spite of the pain. Blood was splattered along the driver side door. There was a big chunk of red on the rearview mirror. Maybe it's a piece of brain tissue. God, don't look.

However, she stood up.

Don't look. Don't look. Don't look.

She looked. "Don't look," she whimpered.

She looked away. She looked again. She looked away and vomited. The carcass of her husband shocked her so that she couldn't even cry. Tears were in her eyes, but they wouldn't fall.

Christopher was dead. Juniper was alone. Not even a fucking stray dog to take comfort in.

Comfort....she could have some comfort. Because she had a gun. Four bullets would be ample. Three for Peter (two in the groin, one in the brain pan) and one for herself. The new world was a shithole, and her husband was dead. No need to stick around.

But, she would kill Peter first. Not because he had killed her husband. (Though she couldn't admit it yet, she would tell herself later that Christopher wouldn't have made it anyway). Not because he had slapped her around in the past.

Juniper finished her mother's favorite saying aloud.

"It's because one shall not suffer an asshole to live."