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“GET AWAY FROM ME,” Susan snarled, holding the Glock level at his forehead. “Move!”
She registered shock on his face, but only for a moment. His eyes cleared and the crazy-calmness he had about him returned instantly.
“That’s not nice, Susan. I’m asking you for help and you’re acting like a bitch. I think you don’t appreciate what I’m doing for you.”
“Appreciate?” she snarled. “I don’t appreciate the death you’ve wrought upon this world.”
“I’ve allowed you to live. I’m offering to save your husband. I just want you to look into my head, to take hold of whatever is in there and get it the fuck out!” he screamed.
She flinched and the gun waivered for a second, but that was all it took for the bastard to grab the weapon cat-quick and twisted it from her fingers. She screamed in pain as her finger wretched in the trigger guard. Her index finger seemed to separate from the knuckle. It hung at a slight angle.
He looked at the weapon and saw there was no magazine. Anger masked his face now. “It’s not loaded,” he said and then struck her across the face with the side of the weapon.
Pain erupted in her right jaw and shot up her temple. She felt warm blood trickle down her cheek. Her vision blurred, and she slumped over onto the bed. She fought the urge to lose consciousness; her head felt tingly and her vision took on that narrowed, tunnel-effect right before you faint.
“Sit up,” Paul said. He leaned forward and lifted one of her eye lids with the thumb of one of his gloved hands. “I didn’t hit you that hard. Don’t you pass out on me, Susan. Don’t you dare.”
She tried to sit up, but she was not capable. She felt like all the strength was zapped right out of her. She blinked away the tears.
Paul dropped the Glock on the bed and now lifted her head with both hands. She felt the cold handle of the knife touch her cheek and she shuddered. “Stay with me, Susan. If you faint, I will go out into that hall and kill your husband. I swear I will.”
Again, she tried to sit up. Her body cooperated better this time and she was able to slouch at the edge of the bed, but she couldn’t summon enough strength to lift her head. It lolled to her right and she struggled to keep her eyes open.
“That’s better,” Paul said. “Will you help me?”
“I don’t...I don’t know how.”
He slapped her across her left cheek, leaving an angry red welt. “You can. I felt you in my head and I know you can do it.”
More tears fell. Her thoughts were muddled, and her face stung. Her head was pounding now, and she noted that her ears were ringing. David, she thought. He would be dead soon. She would be dead soon. They would be together again.
Don’t you give up, she yelled in her mind. Don’t you give up.
“Look at me,” Paul said. “Look into my eyes, see the shadow waves. See the darkness.”
She looked at him, but all she saw was madness. Plain and simple madness. He’d lost his mind, but he didn’t know it yet.
The Glock 30, she heard David’s voice say, is a .45 caliber compact pistol. He’d held the gun out to her at the gun range, showing her the sleek silhouette of the weapon. A whole lot of gun in a small package.
Focus on this, Sue, she told herself. Remember! This is important.
“Yes, you see. You saw the madness. It touched your mind and you recoiled from it. You shot out of there; I felt you leave.”
A three point seven-eight-inch barrel, five-point five-pound trigger pull and nine round magazine capacity, David had said. That’s nine rounds of man-stopping power.
How many did you fire, Sue? She closed her eyes trying to remember.
“I said look at me, Susan.”
The first round went high and scared the shit out of her. Although she’d been expecting the kick, she did not remember it being so harsh when she’d practiced at the range. The next shot tore open a chunk of wall to the left.
“Open your God damn eyes.”
Then the knife arched down, and she heard David’s horrible scream. She’d fired blindly then, one-two-three-four shots. She could almost feel the buck of each one of those shots against her palm.
He hit her across the face again, jarring her teeth.
She opened her eyes now, as she had in the hall. I fired again when he pulled the knife out of David.
“I will kill your husband if you do not help me.”
He called my name and I shot again, she thought. How many is that, Sue? How fucking many?
Paul stood now to his full height. He looked down at her and she could see the madness flashing in his eyes like fire flickering in a stone fireplace. His brow creased, and the corners of his mouth pulled down into a leer that made the heat drain out of her body. She knew what he meant to do. She knew there was no more time for stalling.
“No more games,” he said and strode toward the door. He held the knife in his right hand and with his left he began to undo the latches and bolts.
How many, damn it?
He opened the door and a harsh laughter burst from him. “This is fate, Susan,” he said. At his feet lay David. He must have crawled down the hall trying to reach her. “Now say goodbye.”
“Eight,” she shouted.
Paul turned to her, startled. “What?” he asked, confused by her answer.
She grabbed frantically for the Glock, her fingers wrapping tightly around the grip. The magazine was empty, but she’d only fired eight times.
That’s nine rounds of man-stopping power.
The last round was already chambered. She took aim, steadying her hands, holding her breath like David taught her.
“You still want to play games,” Paul said. “Well all-fucking-right. Let’s play games.”
He lifted the knife and with a cry that chilled Susan to the bone, he rushed at her. His eyes were wild, and his hair flew back from his face revealing his full countenance. His cheeks were stretched as his mouth gaped barring clenched teeth. She heard David faintly call out to her. For a second, she almost took her eyes off the gun sights, but she remained focused and kept her sight picture. With a calmness she did not know she possessed, she squeezed the trigger.
The Glock bucked in her hand, vibrating up her forearm and into her elbow. Then she was thrown backward, onto the bed, as Paul slammed into her. His weight carried her onto the bed and then over the edge and off the other side. She thumped awkwardly onto the floor, jarring her chin. The pain in her head refocused and her vision swam again.
Don’t pass out, she thought. Don’t you dare pass—