Cherry Delight #6: I'm Cherry, Fly Me

My finger tightened on the trigger. I shot the gunman first. I blew away the top half of his head with that first bullet. A 9mm shell packs one hell of a wallop. Up this close it was like an explosive. The driver of the car stared at his dead companion with horrified eyes, then threw a despairing glance at me. My gunsight caught him. My finger squeezed. The bullet took away the front of his face. I saw blood gout and flesh and bone fly, and then I shrank back onto the suicide seat as Karl stepped on the gas pedal and the Porsche pulled away at an ever-increasing speed.