Broken Angels

95

Marius Damgaard pulled the rope as a gunshot thundered through the room. At the same instant, Josh Bontrager slammed the rock through the window, smashing the pane into a shower of crystalline glass. Damgaard staggered back, blood now blossoming on his crisp white shirt. Bon- trager gained his footing on the icy shards, then lunged across the room, onto the stage, toward the coffin. Damgaard reeled, fell backward, his full weight on the rope. The crossbow mechanism triggered as Damgaard disappeared through the shattered window, leaving a slick scarlet trail on the floor, the wall, the windowsill.

As the steel arrow launched, Josh Bontrager reached Nicci Malone. The projectile slammed into his right thigh, passing through it and into Nicci's flesh. Bontrager shrieked in agony as a great burst of his blood shot across the room.

A moment later, the front door crashed in.

Jessica dove for her weapon, rolled on the floor, aimed. Somehow Kevin Byrne and Vincent were standing in front of her. She scrambled to her feet.

The three detectives dashed over to the stage. Nicci was still alive. The arrowhead had cut into her right shoulder, but the wound did not look serious. Josh's injury looked far worse. The razor sharp arrow had sliced deeply into his leg. It may have hit an artery.

Byrne tore off his coat, his shirt. He and Vincent lifted Bontrager, tied a tight tourniquet around his upper leg. Bontrager screamed in pain.

Vincent turned to his wife, held her. "Are you okay?"

"Yes," Jessica said. "Josh called for backup. The sheriff 's office is on the way."

Byrne looked through the shattered window. A dry canal ran behind the building. Damgaard was gone.

"I've got this." Jessica applied pressure to Josh Bontrager's wound. "Go after him," she said.

"Are you sure?" Vincent asked.

"I'm sure. Go."

Byrne slipped his coat back on. Vincent grabbed his shotgun.

They ran out the door into the black night.