This is another flash fiction piece that originally appeared at Tribe's excellent Flashing in the Gutters site.

Way out there, we couldn’t do anything but bury the girl and leave a marker for someone to find. With Ray already limping from his knee injury, we couldn’t carry her back, and if we just left her in the woods, half naked and cut up so bad, animals would come along and no one would ever find her, or even know who she was. So I dug with the camp shovel, doing what…

This short piece originally appeared on Tribe's excellent Flashing in the Gutters site.

Not your fault your first shot missed, not your fault the punk returned fire. Not your fault Reymond's vest didn't cover his paunch or that he stood stock still in the doorway, fumbling with the thumb break on his new duty rig.

Not your fault he got killed.

Punk was Reymond's word. Everyone on the street was a punk to him. Or a kid.

You don't have…