Merrily screamed. Juby held her, kept her from running into the gunfire. But then some random guy rushed past them into the center of it. “Goddammit, Junior,” Vasquez yelled. “Get the fuck out of there!” Alice and Searcher, both on the sidewalk. The man who had shot at them reached down and plucked the gun from Searcher’s outstretched hand.
Merrily fought off Juby and stumbled through the door, her eyes on the shooter.
He was just an old man whose shoulders didn’t fill out his jacket, but he had all the guns. He slid the guns into his coat pockets but left his hands there.
“What the fuck did you do, Big?” Vasquez bellowed, edging around the front of the guy, his own gun trained.
“What I should have done,” the old man said, a whisper as thin as paper, “a long time ago.”
“Drop those weapons!” Vasquez yelled.
“No, no, Alice, no.” The guy who’d run in, cowboy hero, running into the path of bullets, had Alice gathered in his arms. His hands were slick with blood.
Merrily couldn’t wait for Vasquez to figure it out. She rushed in and fell to her knees in front of Alice, brushing her hair away. Her eyes were closed, her lips parted. “Is she breathing? Alice? Vasquez, we need an ambulance.”
“Kinda busy, Mer,” he called back. “Trying to keep you from getting killed. Mr. King Senior, I’m going to need those guns, sir.”
Juby edged around the action uneasily and knelt next to Merrily. “My mom will kill me if I get shot. What do we do?”
Alice’s lips were moving, but the guy holding on to her blubbered so loud Merrily couldn’t hear her. “Dude, shut up,” she said. “Is that all her blood?”
“Apply pressure, right?” Juby reached in.
Above them, voices called for backup, an ambulance. Shots fired, live shooter.
“He shot her,” the guy clutching Alice said. “You shot her.”
“It wasn’t me, Jimmy,” the old man said. “I shot Harris. Harris pulled the trigger on his way down. Harris always finds a way to pull the trigger. Is she OK?”
“She’s shot, you asshole,” Merrily screamed.
“Everyone, please calm down the tiniest bit, please,” Vasquez said.
“She’s breathing,” Juby said. “It hit her arm. It went all the way through—is that good?”
“None of it is good, sweetheart,” the old man said.
“King, you want to get Alice help,” Vasquez said, “put those guns down and show me your hands.”
“Alice,” the guy they’d called Jimmy, the cowboy, was pleading. “Stay with me, OK? Fuck, now that everyone’s shot each other, you have to stay. You’re the boss, remember? We have to run King and Fine.”
Alice was trying to speak. The guy leaned over so his ear was close to her mouth.
This guy was gone on Alice, that was clear. Merrily looked up. Vasquez still had a bead on the old man. “Gonzo, baby, can we shut this down?”
“Trying, cariño. Mr. King needs to surrender his weapons like a man who wants to live.”
When she turned back, Jimmy was still crouched over Alice, his shoulders shaking. “No,” Merrily said. “No, she’s not—”
He sat up. He was laughing. “She said—”
“Jimmy, for Christ’s sake,” the old man said.
“She said, she said . . . ‘Fine and King,’” he said. “Not King and Fine—”
“Fuck,” Juby whispered. “That’s amazing.”
“I think she’s going to be fine,” Jimmy said.
The older man sighed. “Jimmy, take care of her, for a change, will you? Be a good boy.”
Jimmy looked up. “Dad?”
One dad left standing, then, Merrily thought. Mr. King, eyes downcast, expression lost to the dark. Sirens sang in the distance.
“Mr. King, I’m going to ask you one more time to show me both your hands, sir. Don’t make me do the paperwork.”
“He deserves to burn in hell,” King said. “We both do.”
“What?” Jimmy said. “No. This is over. Don’t do anything stupid. More stupid than you’ve already done.”
“Jimmy,” his dad said, his voice gruff, “I didn’t mean it about you not running King and Fine. I only wanted to keep you out of his hands—”
“Dad—”
“They’ll put me away, otherwise,” King said. “I know it was bad for you when I got sent up. It was to save Harris, the business—”
“Dad, I know—I’m the one who stole the old ledgers, OK? I know what you’ve both been up to. You’ve left me so much shit to clean up, this time if you go to prison I’ll barely know you’re gone. Come on. I need you here.”
Merrily thought of her mom in the house in Port Beth. She hoped, Oh, God, let this be over. Let her be safe and free. She is all I have.
But that wasn’t true. Jimmy gestured for Merrily, and she crawled into place, cradling Alice to her. So much blood.
“Mr. King Junior, please stay where you are.”
Jimmy raised his hands to Vasquez and sidled closer to his dad. “No more pyrotechnics, OK?” Jimmy said. “This is enough broken glass and blood for one grand opening. Let me have the guns, Dad.”
“Don’t—” Alice said under her breath.
“Don’t!” Merrily said.
“I’ve got this,” Jimmy said. “Vasquez, please.”
Jimmy eased even closer to his dad, speaking in a low voice.
Merrily watched, then looked to Vasquez. Everything slowed, quieted. She held her breath.
Finally the old man lifted his hands out of his pockets, slowly, reluctantly. Jimmy reached around and slid the jacket off his dad’s back, the guns still in it.
Things went quickly. Vasquez stepped forward, weapon on Jimmy until he had the jacket by the collar. Backup rushed in, clamping handcuffs, grabbing shoulders. Jimmy, being led away, looked toward Merrily. “Take care of our friend there.”
“She’s not my friend,” Merrily said, forming herself as a wall around Alice. “She’s my sister.” The fine hairs on her arms prickled. This was it, that feeling she’d had of the other universe scraping past in its own orbit. Her whole life alone, when she might have had this. “Sister. And, oh, God, there’s another one out there! Alice, we have another sister, and I bet she won’t believe a word of this.”