A Long Walk Up the Waterslide

I MEAN, CARMINE’S WHACKED MORE GUYS THAN CARTER HAS PILLS…

Neal was winded by the time he hit the last long slope to the top. He had to lie on his stomach and pull himself up, and his hands kept slipping.

And he heard Karen yelling. Then his hands slipped and he slid backward.

“Get down!” Karen yelled.

“What’s she saying?” asked Candy.

“Bye-bye,” Joey Beans answered.

Overtime centered the crosshairs on Foglio’s square forehead. He had worked out his priorities: Make Carmine happy first, then Peter, then take Polly out, then the bitch from Nevada, then maybe the one-armed dwarf who’d set him up, the gray-haired cop…

As they say, Idle hands are the devil’s playground.

He started to apply that gentle persuasion to the trigger.

Or… do Candy first, which will make Joey think he’s safe, then whack the bitch from Nevada, then the one-armed dwarf, then…

Neal grabbed onto the side and caught himself. He threw one foot out and managed to get straight and start pulling up again. Water streamed into his face. He had his mouth clamped shut, but the water was coming into his nose and he started to choke.

He craned his neck and saw Overtime’s back and the rifle come up to his cheek.

The killer was just out of reach.

Neal opened his mouth to scream.

No… do the bitch first before she spooks everyone, then Joey, then Candy, then…

One thing at a time.

He was drawing the lead on Karen when he heard a drowning voice yell, “NOOOO!”

He squeezed the trigger just as the hand grabbed his arm.

Chuck heard the crack of the rifle, knocked Candy down, and lay on top of her.