Sean raised his gun and popped up from behind the bar long enough to aim. He shot at the short, stocky man leading the charge into the room. The one who, no doubt, had put his shoulder to the door. With a yelp, the man twisted and flipped backwards down the stairs. Sean saw Rune throw himself flat against the wall to avoid his partner as he tumbled and then bolt toward the window covering his head with his arm. Sean re-aimed and fired again. He caught a glimpse of Rune jerking as if he’d been hit.
“You get ’em?” asked Luther as Sean dropped back behind the bar.
“Hit them both. Little man fell down the stairs. Rune’s by the window.”
“He on the ground, too?”
Sean nodded. “I think.” They waited another moment and then peered over the edge of the bar, craning their necks to see.
Rune had collapsed at the foot of the floor-to-ceiling tinted window occupying most of the eastern wall.
Sean and Luther looked at each other.
“That was easy,” said Sean.
“Hm.”
They stood. Sean crept to the stairs to check that the bowling ball wasn’t returning. Luther moved toward Rune.
Finding the short man still crumpled at the bottom of the stairs, Sean turned to join Luther. He saw his friend poke Rune with his foot. “What are you doing? Don’t—”
Rune’s boney hand shot out to grab Luther’s ankle. The big man roared as if Rune’s touch burned him and, leaning forward, wrapped his massive hands around Rune’s shirt, jerking him to his feet.
“Not on my watch!”
Rune grinned and reached up as if to grab Luther’s neck. Sean leapt forward.
“Stop!”
Luther lifted Rune from his feet as if the man were as light as the clothes he wore. He ran forward until Rune’s back hit the glass. It shattered against the weight of the two of them. Rune’s eyes bulged wide as the hand once reaching for Luther’s neck now flailed, searching for something to stop his fall.
Sean saw a flash of red where Rune’s fingers dragged across jagged glass.
And then both men were gone.
“Luther!” Sean ran to the empty space where the tinted window had been, barely stopping in time so he didn’t tumble to the ground below as well. By the glow of the front door’s floodlight he saw Luther sprawled on the cement below, an ever growing disc of dark red pooling around his head like a demonic halo.
Rune lay not far away at an odd angle. It took Sean a moment to realize he’d fallen half on a loading ramp and half off. His spine hooked at an unnatural angle, his back seemingly broken.
A movement near Rune caught Sean’s eye. He squinted.
A rat.
A large rodent had scurried from beneath the loading ramp to sniff around Rune’s broken body.
Sean was about to spin away from the window when he spotted Rune’s hand whip from his side like a cobra to snatch the rat. He heard a squeak and saw a small flash of light, and then the rat was gone.
Rune sat up, vertebrae popping like corn as he straightened. His gaze settled on Luther before shooting upward to lock on Sean.
He smiled.
Sean felt the blood drain from his cheeks.
“Oh no you don’t, you son of a bitch.”
Sean raised his gun and felt the jagged glass poking from the window frame bite the back of his hand. He cursed, and the gun fumbled from his fingers to fall to the ground below.
Rune laughed.
Sean ran for the stairs, nearly slipping down them in his haste.
But Luther didn’t fall, did he?
No.
Luther had jumped, tackling Rune on his way out. He’d sacrificed himself to save Sean.
Why? Now here I am, running outside to confront that same—
Sean rounded the corner of the building and stopped.
Rune was gone.
Luther still lay in the same position, unmoving.
Sean turned and stared at the bottom of the stairs he’d just run down, realizing the short man had disappeared. He’d been sprawled at the bottom of the stairs.
Did he help Rune get away?
Did it matter?
Breaking into a low, crouching jog, Sean ran to his friend’s side and grabbed his hand.
“Luther?”
He felt no pulse. He tried in vain to start Luther’s heart, but it quickly became clear that no amount of CPR or chest pounding would ever wake him.
Luther was dead.
The big man’s eyes were closed, but the corner of his mouth had twisted into a coy smile.
As if he had a secret.
Another one.
Sean ran back inside to call for help.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Fiona stared out the window, her chin resting in her palm. She’d gone through her social media accounts and responded to all the fans she could bear. She’d posted some old photos she’d been meaning to add. She deleted some losers and followed some people she hoped could influence other people to follow her.
She’d gone through all of Catriona’s drawers and found what her sister apparently considered her nail tools, doing her best to smooth some rough edges on her right hand middle and index fingers. She couldn’t bring herself to repaint her nails with Catriona’s cheap polish. The little jars all looked to be about twenty years old and straight from the nearest convenience store.
She’d just finished snooping through the bedroom closet when Catriona called to let her know she wouldn’t be returning. Her sister told her to stay put under penalty of death and blah, blah, blah.
After that, Fiona tried to leave, only to have the guard stop her. He told her he was under orders to call the police and have her committed for observation if she tried to leave.
Nice touch, sis.
The guard was probably bluffing or just repeating whatever nonsense
