CHAPTER EIGHT

Jon straightened. “GOT HIM, HECK! OVER HERE!”

Gina was looking dazed. I grabbed her hand. “It’s me they’re after. You can make it out. Go, before Heck gets here.” I pointed to the wide playhouse window behind her.

Her wide dark eyes were fixed on me in bewilderment. I knew she was still weighing what I’d said about Jon, wondering if I could be right.

I had to get her out of here. Maybe I could annoy her into action by making a joke. I shoved the axe into her hands. “Remember, when chopping, think: door, yes. Skulls, no.”

It worked. Gina’s eyes narrowed to disbelief. She seemed about to retort.

“HERE, IN THE BABY SECTION,” Jon shouted.

He bent down again. “Don’t worry, Gina. I’m just cooperating with Heck so nobody else will get hurt. It’s the only way.”

He snickered at me. “Caught you just where you belong, wallet thief. With the kiddie stuff. Well, bad news. You’re playing with the big boys now.”

I smiled. “Okay, let’s play,” I said.

I leaped out from under the red roof and tackled Jon, knocking him to the floor.

In falling, he crashed an elbow into the plastic musical chimes. With a frantic tinkling, they dislodged from the shelf edge they’d been hooked on. As Jon fell backwards to the floor, the chimes landed noisily on his face.

I glanced around. Gina was gone.

I wasn’t interested in beating the daylights out of Jon, satisfying as that would be. Not with Heck approaching. I just needed to put Jon out of play long enough to make a break for it.

Foot planted on Jon’s neck, I glanced around for something to make life difficult for him over the next few minutes.

The chimes would do. I twisted the string of a smiling plastic whale round and round in the carefully gelled lock of dark hair on Jon’s forehead. I shoved a smiling plastic octopus in his mouth. That oughtta keep him occupied.

As Jon spluttered and tried to untangle the chimes, I took off. I cut through the electronics section, into outdoor living, and veered to the front. I might just have the chance to follow Gina out of here – and take Mr. Rafferty with me.

Back in babyware, oath-laced yells erupted. I gathered Heck was mildly ticked at Jon for letting me get away.

I ran to the cash register counter where the storeowner was slumped, his hands bound with a skipping rope. I helped him off.

“C’mon, Mr. Rafferty,” I urged, untying the rope. “You can walk. I’ll help you to the side exit. We can do it. We can get away.”

Police were pressed against the doors, trying to make out what was going on. I considered signalling to them to break through the glass and come in. But that might put Gina at risk. Heck would hightail it to the side exit, where Gina might be right now.

Mr. Rafferty’s jowly face was pooled with sweat, but his eyes were cold, dead. I’d been right. He knew about Jon.

“I can’t leave my son,” the storeowner said dully. “I won’t desert him, no matter what.”

Great. What was I going to do? I couldn’t drag him out.

I looked at the police again. They’d raised their guns and were aiming them straight at me.

They thought I was in this with Heck. Why else would I be wandering around free?

All at once, from the side of the store –

A blood-curdling scream.

It was Gina. “OH MY GOD, NO! – PLEASE DON’T KILL ME – ”

There was a gunshot.

Then, silence.

He’s killed her, I thought. Heck’s killed her.

Horror spread through my limbs like fast-acting poison. I couldn’t move.

More screams, this time from the centre of the store. These screams were from Jon, along with the tinkling of musical chimes.

Jon bounded out to the front. The plastic whale was still twisted up in his front lock of hair. The other chimes dangled off him like some weird ceremonial headdress.

He raced left, to the camera department. “YOU IDIOT! YOU WEREN’T SUPPOSED TO SHOOT GINA.”

Dimly, through the horror, his accusation echoed in my brain. Heck wasn’t supposed to shoot Gina.

Mr. Rafferty swung his gaze to me. Panic flickered into his eyes, mirroring the thought I was having:

Who was Heck supposed to shoot?

I whipped round to stare at the police. They still had their guns raised, but they weren’t pushing through the doors. They hadn’t heard the gunshot.

Then – the lights went out.

After shooting Gina, Heck had switched the power off. That, I didn’t get. No power, no security cameras to track me down with.

There was a chance Gina was still alive. If so, I had to get her out of the store. And, I had to take Mr. Rafferty with us.

“One or both of us is next in Heck’s crosshairs,” I hissed at the storeowner.

He shook his head.

From the camera section, Jon called, “Gina! Gina!” His tone was as much annoyed now as concerned. By getting shot, Gina had inconvenienced him.

She must’ve almost made it to the control room. Almost.

Face crumpling, Mr. Rafferty nodded. Gina’s shooting was too much for him. He was going to come with me.

Holding the storeowner by the elbow, I began steering him into the middle of the store. I figured we’d sneak up close to the camera department. When Jon left the control room, we’d make a dash for it. If Gina was alive, we’d carry her out the side exit.

Like I say, I began steering Mr. Rafferty.

The next moment, Heck leaped out from an aisle near the right of the store. Under the nylon, his manic grin was wider than ever.

I pushed Mr. Rafferty back down beside the nearest cash register counter.

Heck cocked his rifle with a crack that echoed through the silent store. “WHERE ARE YA, JELLY? YOU’RE MESSIN’ WITH ME, AINTCHA? THE HECKSTER DON’T LIKE TO BE MESSED WITH.”

Heck glided along the cash register counters, staring down each one with that same fixed grin.

And humming. The off-key tune was now even more irritating because I almost recognized it.

Mr. Rafferty let out a whimper and tried to get up. He wanted to cooperate with Heck.

I gripped his shoulders and forced him back down. I didn’t see the point of cooperating with Heck. He’d killed one person, maybe two. I was tired of letting this gunman run the show, tired of having to come up with ways to react to him and Jon. I wanted to act, not react.

I needed to come up with an idea.

I could almost hear Mr. Bunbury telling me that, just the way he did in drama class. But what idea? If I threw something, like I’d done before, Heck would see where it came from. I couldn’t fool him with that one again.

Heck was three cash registers away.

Improvise, Mr. Bunbury would say.

Yeah, right. When the time left to me was falling away like the seconds on a stopwatch.

A stopwatch … The drama teacher held up a stopwatch when he was giving us just so many seconds to improvise. To act out a part on the spot, with no prep. That’s when the mental bank of voices and expressions we’d built up came in so handy. We’d draw on them and –

That was it.

I wanted to act, not react.

To act.

“Hey, Heck,” I blurted.

But not in my own voice.

In Jon Rafferty’s.

Mr. Rafferty jumped. He stared hard at me, as if double-checking that it was me, not his son, beside him.

Beyond this cash register stretched the electronics section. If I could just fool Heck into thinking that’s where I – make that, Jon – was shouting from.

I put all Jon’s whiny smugness into my next utterance.

“Over here by the cell phones, Heck. Jelly was trying to call for help. But I got my foot nicely planted on his windpipe.” I managed one of Jon’s sneering chuckles. “Guess he won’t be chatting anyone up soon.”

Heck snorted.

Ice clenched my spine. I hadn’t fooled him at all.

Then Heck shouted, “About time you caught him, Jonny.”

Cautiously I looked around the magazines. Heck was running toward the electronics section. As Heck ran, he laughed. “Jelly won’t be chatting anyone up ever again, huh, Jonny?”

Mr. Rafferty bleated into my ear, “Wh-what does he mean?”

“He means that he and your son want to add me to the body count,” I whispered back shortly. I was getting more glimmers of Heck’s plan. It was still vague around the edges, but I thought I understood it now. It was ugly, twisted – and brilliant.

I hoisted Mr. Rafferty up, hurrying him behind the cash registers to the side exit. I kept low, holding the storeowner’s head down as well. I’d sidelined Heck for the moment, but I still had to worry about Jon. I was pretty sure he was in the control room. How would we get past him?