They heard the engine noise before the lights hit the roof of the living room. The sound got louder as the lights moved across the roof, until they then descended towards the floor and disappeared. The engine noise was replaced by voices and the distinct sound of two slamming doors.
‘Yeow! Busha?’ A shout came from outside.
Busha George walked to the patio glass door and slid it open. ‘I’m up here,’ he shouted. ‘Go round de back. De grill open.’ Busha walked back into the living room with a devilish smile on his face. ‘I hope you ladies are ready to party.’
Busha waited for a few minutes and then walked to the front door and called out, ‘Yeow! Where are you guys?’ There was no sound for a few seconds. ‘Hey! Wha’ppen?’ It took a few more seconds before there was a barely discernible response.
‘Coming. Stopped to take a piss.’
‘How yuh so nasty? Toilet up here, yuh know. Cho!’ Busha exclaimed. He walked back into the dining room. He loosened his belt and nodded towards Kathy. ‘Me have someting fe yuh,’ Busha said with a wide grin on his face.
‘And so do I!’
Busha spun around to see Marshall bounding across the room, with a pipe primed like a baseball bat on the shoulder of a hitter at the home plate. It only took him three strides to reach Busha.
Thwack!
Blood splattered across the wall as Busha was thrown off his feet; his shoulder hit the floor first. Despite being dazed by the blow, Busha managed to steady himself quickly and squeeze off a round that caught Marshall on the hand, causing him to drop the pipe. Marshall closed the gap between them and stamped on the hand that Busha was using to steady himself. There was an audible crack as Busha’s wrist collapsed under the violent impact of Marshall’s boot. Marshall slammed his other boot into the side of Busha face. A tooth and the gun clattered across the tiles towards the kitchen, and more blood splattered across the floor. Busha snarled as he reached into his waist and tried to pull out another gun. Marshall kicked him in the stomach.
‘Oohh!’ accompanied the expulsion of wind from Busha’s lungs, but he still clutched on to the gun. Marshall kicked Busha again. Busha’s desperate gasp for air partially masked the sound of his breaking ribs, and he lost his grip on the second gun. Marshall quickly kicked the gun across the room, and as it clattered across the floor, Marshall slammed his boot into Busha’s head. Busha struggled to get up to his knees.
Marshall picked up the pipe and brought it down on Busha’s head. Marshall swung the pipe again. Busha was motionless. Blood splattered on to Marshall as he swung the pipe again.
‘Marshall.’
Marshall swung again.
‘Marshall,’ Kathy called to him again.
Marshall swung again.
‘Marshall!’ Kathy shouted.
Marshall stopped and looked at Kathy, the whites of his eyes shining brightly against his dark complexion.
‘He’s not moving,’ Kathy said. Marshall looked down at Busha, and back at Kathy, bemused.
Lisa and Jenny were crying, as were all the children, who were hugging Kenny tightly.
‘Kenny,’ Kathy called. ‘Come.’
Kenny loosened the rope fastening Kathy, Jenny and Lisa, and then scurried back to the children to console them. Jenny and Lisa hurried over to Kenneth and Sean respectively. Marshall was kneeling in a pool of blood beside Jay. Kathy quickly checked Busha’s pulse and then knelt beside Marshall and held him.
Marshall nodded towards Busha.
‘He’s dead,’ she whispered.
He looked over at Jenny and Lisa who both nodded. Their eyes drifted down at Jay, and then looked expectantly at Marshall. Marshall shook his head slowly.