Story "The Last Bullet"
At the impromptu emergency meeting, the captain's mouth exploded like a series of names, and there was no old Ding alone. Old Ding's eyes widened, and he stared at the captain deadly, but the captain's gaze drifted back and forth, never meeting old Ding's eyes. So Lao Ding knew that the omission was deliberate, out of a kind of goodwill. Because, starting tomorrow, Old Ding will no longer be an active policeman.
Old Ding finally couldn't hold back, and said in a trembling voice: "Captain, I, what task?" The captain hesitated slightly, but finally agreed: "Okay, take charge of the periphery." Old Ding was a little excited, and his hand was gently pressed on the "Old May Fourth" pistol around his waist, and he thought in his heart, Old man, tomorrow we will break up!
The round-up did not go well. This criminal gang spans several provinces, killing people and committing countless evils, but like a cunning octopus, it repeatedly slips out of the gun of the police.
A figure swooped into the alley at a very fast speed, stopping in horror and gasping for breath, and was secretly proud of escaping the pursuit again, when the cold was cold, and Old Ding came out of a gatehouse slash, just in front of him.
Surprise, anger... Fear, rejoicing... Just as Old Ding was stunned, the criminal suddenly flashed past Old Ding and spread his legs and ran forward.
"Stop!" Old Ding drank heavily.
"Stop...!" Old Ding shouted again.
The criminal did not stop, turning into a black shadow whizzing forward.
Fire a warning shot. The black shadow still did not pause in the slightest. Old Ding fixed his mind and took a deep breath, and the gunshots sounded again. At the sound of the gun, The black shadow slammed into the ground, but it was very difficult to get up, dragging his right leg and struggling to move his body forward.
It is the late autumn season in the north. The occasional pigeon whistle sounded all the way to the tip of Old Ding's heart. At the beginning of the north wind, it seemed that the wind and sand had confused his eyes, and two lines of cloudy tears slowly flowed out, crawling around along his strange old face. But his hands did not shake, raised his gun, aimed, three points and one line, fired. A bullet roared out and pierced into the back of Shadow's heart. At the moment of falling to the ground, the body of the shot subconsciously twisted, and the eyes were full of confusion.
Old Ding hung down weakly from the muzzle of his gun, and the tears flowed more and more fiercely.
When the colleagues caught up, the captain turned the body over, the smile on his face froze, reached out to stop the happy subordinates, and said in a trembling voice: "This is Old Ding's son, his only son." ”
Old Ding, who shot the last bullet of his police career, gradually melted his figure into the wind and sand that rose in the sky. He was thinking: He will retire tomorrow, what will he do? By the way, first of all, you should write a letter, a letter written in the name of your son, which can be read to your old wife who is paralyzed in bed.