James

The ‘music’ is still playing, and I don’t hear the sound, but beside me, a half-empty cocktail glass shatters and Klempner, snatching at my arm, tugs me to one side. Crouching behind the bar, “That’s Finchby.”

“How d’you know it’s Finchby?”

“Because he’s a fucking lousy shot.”

“So, where’s Baxter?”

Above us, in a line on the shelves above us, the top rank of bottles shatter, exploding their contents in a multi-hued shower of liquid and shattered glass. “That’s Baxter.” Abruptly, the music cuts out…

“Thank fuck for that,” mutters Klempner beside me, inching up to look over the bar.

Another line of fire, lower this time…

Finchby’s voice. “That’s my stock you’re shooting up, Baxter…”

Klempner grins. “C’mon… They’re in the office.” His head swings. “Where’s Jenny?”

“Down the stairs. Hopefully, Michael already has her out.”

“Good. That gives us a free hand.” He checks his watch. “Right, with me… One, two, three…”

His rifle over the bar, Klempner fires blind towards the office door. It chatters then falls silent. He curses…

Out of ammo?

Jammed?

… then tugs a handgun from his pocket and fires. “Run…”

*****

Klempner

A group of half a dozen of the women mill around, seeming not to know what to do without someone telling them...

Natural slaves...

The Glock raised in my hand, “Get out!”

One blathers at me, runs up pleading, then her eyes fix on my pistol.

“Out!” I yell, pointing to the door. “Saia! Ir!”

they don't get the message. Another runs up, weeping mascara, at

Too stupid to live…

Glock, I cup my paired hands, then... “Boom...”

get it. Eyes widen. Screaming,

two running the

Fuck…

them, and there, running ahead of

Finchby…

Gotcha!

he brings up his pistol. He’s way too slow, yelping as I slap the hand to

I plant my fist in his face and he

Got the bastard!

feet. “Now move.” Dangling in my grip, half his weight pressed against

with me. “Want a hand

here is being

squealing like a piglet that knows it’s bacon

Which it is…

to you yet. If you annoy me now, we might move on to that part of proceedings

face. “If you want him able to speak,

Ever the pragmatist…

I release him, top and bottom, and Finchby drops to the ground, landing

away? Knowing I'd have thought you would have...” James points two fingers at the

I would. But Baxter's not here and I need to know where he is. I’m sure our friend here will be able to tell us where to find him,

us, gripping him by arms and legs, bodily, James and I drag

way to the stairs, Hickman, apparently on his way out, but

up. Finchby takes the opportunity

“Hey, I'm not looking for trouble. Like I said…” He looks down to Finchby again, his

Hickman.

you with…” He

Hickman, it seems to me that you're

glumly. “I'd say

do you feel about

eyes spark,

“Yes, me.”

up, almost to attention.

string, anything you can lay your

nods, thinks, then, “I'll try his office.

pick up his laptop and

pauses, microscopically, looking to

working for me, you take orders from him

“Yes, sir.”

check my watch. “We only have six

The Novel will be updated daily. Come back and continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

Comments ()

0/255