Naked City

He crouched over her as she lay contorted on the pavement, one hand thumbing the send button on his mic, the other still holding his weapon.

“10-85 10-85! My partner’s shot! My partner’s shot! Hurry up central!”

The pool of blood beneath her spread like spilled coffee.

He couldn’t tell where the bullet had gone in, or if there had been more than one.

He holstered the gun and tried to unfasten her vest, but she began to cough a pink foam.

“You’re going to be all right, Jenny. We’ll get you fixed up.”

She stopped coughing.

He thumbed his mic. “Hurry!”

Friday Fictioneers

7 thoughts on “Naked City

  1. I vaguely remember watching the TV show when I was a kid, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen the 1948 film. Of course, there’s the one line from the show that I’ll never forget: “There are eight million stories in the naked city; this has been one of them.”

  2. It amazes me that these brave people are under attack. There would be a whole dreadful aftermath for everyone involved in this story and for what purpose? A tragedy indeed.

Whatever.