Second Shot

My first reaction was relief that she was alive. But crowding in on top of that came the realization that Simone was screaming at someone, the sound disguised by the soundproofing of the room. I glanced at Ella. She’d stiffened in my arms at the sound of her mother’s voice, still at an age where she picked up more by tone and vibration than by the words themselves. I wished that I didn’t have to take her in there with me, but I knew she wouldn’t let me leave her out here any more than she would have let me leave her upstairs.

Ah well, this is what they pay you for.. .

I turned the handle and pushed open the door.

Inside, the occupants of the room swung to face me. Simone, Rosalind and Lucas. Simone was holding a SIG 9mm that looked very like the one I’d fired on the range at Lucas’s store. Tears streaked her face and her eyes were wild.

For a split second, time slowed. I took in the scene like a freeze-frame in a movie, seeing everything and nothing in the blink of an eye.

The room was laid out with a blank wall for the home cinema screen at the far end, flanked by two tall loudspeakers. A projector was suspended from the ceiling and four huge recliner chairs, two at each side, faced the screen. Other than that, there was no furniture.

Lucas was standing to my left, near the chairs. He still had the dressing on his forehead from his tussle with Aquarium man, and was now leaking from a new wound somewhere high up in his hairline, but he didn’t seem to notice the blood sliding down his temple and cheek. His back was very straight like he was awaiting execution. Next to him, his wife was slumped in her seat, her normally tidy hairstyle awry She was staring at a spot on the far wall, away from Simone, and I would have thought she was in shock until she suddenly focused on my arrival.

Simone herself was bent forwards as though she was in pain, and shaking so hard she could hardly hold the gun. She gripped it in both hands, holding it away from her body like she was afraid of it, of what it might do, her hands much too tense. Perhaps that was why, as I entered and she turned, automatically bringing the gun round towards me, her finger tightened on the trigger.

The SIG discharged, twice in quick succession, almost slam-firing as the recoil took Simone by surprise and caused her to loose off a second shot.

The first round hit the wall high to my left, splintering chips of blockwork. The second went into the ceiling.

The noise of the gun discharging was enormous. Ella gave a single high-pitched squeal of terror, right in my ear, deafening me almost as much as the shot had done. I dived sideways and down, twisting my head away, rolling so I landed on my back, cradling the child.

As I went I could have sworn I heard Simone yell, “You bastard. You bastard!” but I had no idea at whom the words were aimed. If her shooting was anything to go by, it could have been anyone.

“Simone,” I shouted. “For God’s sake put the gun down before you kill somebody!”

“It’s too late,” she yelled back, the edge of hysteria in her voice. “It’s all too late now.” She gulped, her breath catching in her throat as though a sorrow too great to bear had suddenly overwhelmed her.

Too late. I remembered Jakes, lying dead in the hallway.

“Simone, what the hell is going on?”

“He killed him!” She was weeping openly now, great raw sobs that were wrenched out of her. “I saw him do it. I loved you!” she shouted at Lucas. “I trusted you! You bastard. You utter fucking bastard!”

Ella went rigid, then started to struggle violently against me, crying for her mother. It was like trying to hold on to a feral cat. She squirmed out of my grasp and scrambled away from me, terror lending her a speed and agility I didn’t think she possessed. I half-rose and grabbed at her, but she zipped out of reach, moving into full view between the seats and the doorway.

“Ella!” Simone cried, as if realizing for the first time she was there. Simone must have realized, too, that in firing at me she’d also risked her daughter. She gave a howl of outrage, barely human.

Ella froze at the unfamiliar sound. I stretched for her again, my fingers just brushing her sleeve as I sought a better grip.

Lucas, sensing what might have been his only chance, suddenly broke out of his immobility and lunged for Ella himself, whisking her out of my tenuous grasp. He scooped the child up, swinging her legs clear of the ground, and went for the doorway with her shrieking in his arms. I threw myself forwards, trying to hook a hand under his ankle, to slow or trip him, but he lashed out, catching me across the cheek with the back of his fist. For a second all I saw was instant static, jagged patches of lightning, a jumble of confused images. I let go and went crashing backwards.