Perilously Fun Fiction: A Bundle, Pauline Jones [top 100 novels of all time .txt] 📗

garlic that I gagged. He dragged me. I dragged my heels. It didn’t stop him. I got my feet hooked on an opening for a few seconds, but it cost me my shoes and some skin and didn’t slow him down enough. A door slammed and we were outside. He gave me a shove that sent me reeling across the alley into a brick wall. I slid down it into a pile of trash.

“You’ve made things hard, bitch. I oughta make it hard back, but I don’t have no time.”

Massacre the language, then me. I pushed my failed do off my face and tried to think. Run. Get him talking, do something.

He pulled a pistol from beneath his polyester jacket and pointed it at me with a rock-steady hand. He didn’t look inclined to talk. Feathery snowflakes drifted down. I stared up the barrel of his gun. Only time to pray. Maybe not even that. His fat finger began to squeeze the trigger—

I braced for impact.

Round head should have.

Someone full body tackled him. They both went down. The dark muzzle of round head’s gun flared, than they vanished into the shadows with the two men. Something plucked against my arm before splintering into the wall behind me.

Like a distant “Ode to Joy” the wail of approaching sirens mixed with grunts, blows, and crashes. The two men rolled in garbage, moving in and out of my view. One time I saw them with their four hands locked around the gun.

The gun was pointed at me.

Then it turned towards the man on the bottom.

Kel.

His face was contorted almost beyond recognition as he fought for his life and mine. It occurred to me that I should help. My glue gun had been returned to my sister, but a two-by-four was at hand. I grabbed it and crawled toward them.

The gun was inches from Kel’s straining face. I closed my eyes and swung. The wood bounced off the round-headed man’s elbow. The gun went flying, discharging as it flew. I think I felt the wind of the bullet as it whizzed by my ear.

With a heave, Kel rolled on top and slammed the round head man against the pavement. Then he slugged him.

“That’s for Elspeth Carter,” he grunted, “and that’s for Bel.” Another bone crunching slug, then they rolled out of sight again, knocking over a pile of boxes and debris. More grunts and blows, then Kel staggered out into the murky light, a dark stain forming on his shirt where his wound was. He rubbed more blood from his mouth. A box sailed out of the shadows after him. He ducked, pulled his gun.

“It’s over. Give it up.” The round-headed man threw a garbage can, then burst from the shadows, running down the alley away from us. Kel dropped to one knee and loosed a flurry of shots after him.

“The next one’s in your back.” His voice was hard and unfamiliar. A police car screeched to a stop, the lights tracing across the ground in front of me.

The round-headed man paused. It looked like his hands were going up, but the cops didn’t agree. Shots thudded home in round head’s tacky Western-cut shirt. He stiffened, then slumped to the ground.

Figures streamed past, the white “POLICE” on their jackets the only sharp detail in the murky light. Guns ready, they approached the still figure. One man knelt and pressed his fingers to his neck, then shook his head and put away his gun.

Kel stowed his weapon, his movements labored. He turned towards me.

“You all right?” His grin was crooked, his breathing labored. He held out his hands to me. My arms felt heavy, my body shaky as adrenaline faded away.

“We’ve got to stop meeting like this.” I tried to match his light tone. I’d seen a lot of stars wheeling past my eyes the past two days, but these stars were on the bitchy side. Hot pokers of pain stabbed into my shoulder. I couldn’t hold back a moan.

“Bel?”

I swayed. His grip on my hands tightened. One shifted to my waist, offering support.

“Are you hurt?”

I looked at my hand. Something was wrong with it. It wouldn’t do anything and it had red, warm stuff all over it.

Blood.

“You’re bleeding,” I muttered. My head fell back on his shoulder. His face wavered in front of me, like a pendulum.

“That’s not my blood,” I heard Kel say.

Dark slammed in like the death I’d expected. For a brief instant I felt the rough texture of his coat against my face. It smelled like garbage.

16

Consciousness returned in pieces, until finally a female face came into focus. One I didn’t recognize.

“Who are you?”

“So, you’re back with us, are you?”

No, my brain said. My mouth didn’t echo it. Memory returned the way consciousness had, in bits and pieces.

“I got shot.”

“Yep. And you’re suffering from shock. I’ve got you hooked up to an IV and you should start feeling better soon.”

“How is she?” I heard Kel ask.

“Why don’t you ask her, she’s awake.”

She disappeared and Kel took her place. It was a big improvement. I waved my hand around until he grabbed it.

“How do you feel?”

“You should know,” I said.

He grinned.

“You both need to take it easy,” put in the EMT. “We’ll be transporting you to the hospital soon.”

“No!” I tried to sit up. Kel and a lack of coordination stopped me.

“Don’t get all stirred up. You’ll start bleeding again.” He looked over his shoulder at the EMT. “I’ll have to pass on the ambulance ride, doc, but Miss Stanley will be going.”

“I didn’t make you go in the hospital.”

“You want me to take you to the dog doc?”

“I want to go home.” I shifted my arm and had to hold back a gasp of pain. “It’s not bad. Really.”

“Right.” Kel looked at the EMT. “How bad is she?”

“Not bad, it’s just a scratch, but—”

“There, you see? Unhook me please?”

She looked disapproving, but did as I asked.

“You can’t drive—”

“I’ll be taking her home.” Kel jumped down from the