Kill Her Again

3 5

“ I’ve always liked you, Danny. I don’t think I need to tell you that this wasn’t my idea.”

Pope’s mind was racing, but to his surprise, McBride seemed cool and collected. There wasn’t even a hint of fear in her eyes.

“Let her go,” he said. “I haven’t told her anything.”

“That doesn’t really matter at this point, does it? Normally, she’d already be dead, but I heard your little exchange upstairs and I’ve got a feeling love is in the air. And because I like you, I wanted to give you a choice.” He smiled. “Who goes first?”

Pope stared at the gun in The Ghost’s hand and felt helpless, wishing he still had Jake’s Glock. There wasn’t a whole lot he could do with a miniature flashlight.

“How much is he paying you?”

“More than you can afford, I’m afraid, so don’t even go there.”

“You won’t get away with this. My cousin’s right outside.”

“Thanks for your concern,” The Ghost said, “but he’s next on the list. Now, come on, Danny, decide. Or I’ll decide for you. Time’s wasting.”

“You motherfucker. You’re enjoying this.”

“Not at all. Either you watch her die or she watches you. It’s your choice.”

Pope looked at McBride. She was blinking at him, furiously. Then her gaze shifted to the flashlight in his hand.

It took him a moment to figure out what she was trying to tell him.

He looked at The Ghost. Tried to see the eyes behind those orange glasses. “I can’t do it,” he said. “I won’t do it.”

“Then I guess I’ll have to decide for you.” He paused, then took the gun from McBride’s head and pointed it at Pope. “You first.”

Several things happened at once. Just as The Ghost started to squeeze the trigger, Pope brought the flashlight up and shone it directly in his face. The Ghost made a noise, squinting against the light, and the shot went wild as — McBride moved into action, simultaneously grabbing his gun hand and stomping down on his right foot.

The Ghost howled, but wasn’t so easily dispatched. He made a quick turn and brought his free hand up, smashing the side of McBride’s face, sending her sprawling.

Pope hurled the flashlight at him, and leaped, taking him down with a hard tackle — but as they hit the floor, The Ghost brought a knee up into Pope’s groin and Pope felt his testicles implode, pain shooting up into his stomach as the wind was knocked out of him.

He rolled away, clutching himself, as The Ghost got to his feet and backed into the bathroom doorway, out of breath, his gun still in hand, pointed at Pope and McBride.

And make no mistake about it. He was angry.

Very angry.

“You know something, Danny? I don’t think I like you all that much any…”

He paused mid-sentence, his expression shifting, a startled look in his eyes. Then his fingers went slack and the gun fell to the floor, as he dropped to his knees and pitched forward, blood spreading across his back.

And standing in the doorway, knife in hand, was the man in the red baseball cap.

He spat on The Ghost, his voice full of disgust. “ Gadje scum.”

Anna’s jaw was on fire, but the pain abruptly disappeared as she pulled herself upright and saw Red Cap staring at her.

Where had he come from?

Had he followed them here?

Without another word, Red Cap stepped toward her and she fumbled for her Glock, only to remember that the man on the floor had taken it from her when he grabbed her.

And as Red Cap moved closer, she suddenly realized that there was something different about him. His face was different from the one she’d seen in her visions. The misshapen half was no longer a hideous mess. It was still malformed, yes, but not nearly as bad-as if he’d had some sort of corrective surgery.

“Not to worry, Chavi. I would not let him hurt you. Not before you give me what is mine.”

McBride tried to get to her feet, but stumbled back and found herself pressed against the hallway wall, her gaze on the knife in his hand. “What do you want from me?”

He seemed surprised by the question. “What I always want, my darling. What I always-”

Anna heard a shout and suddenly Pope flew through the air toward Red Cap, knocking him to the floor. The knife went flying as the two rolled across the carpet, Pope pounding at him with his fists, landing blows to his face and chest.

Red Cap brought an arm up, blocking the assault, as his other hand dipped into a pocket and brought out the stun gun, jabbing Pope in the side. Electricity snapped and Pope jerked back, spasming violently as Red Cap threw him off and stood, about to bring the stunner down again.

Then Anna lunged, grabbing his wrist, slamming him against the wall — but he was strong, abnormally strong, and he twisted away from her and flung her aside. He turned and started toward her again as she stumbled back, losing her footing, and hit the ground hard — and just as he was over her, a shot rang out and he screamed, dropping the stun gun, grabbing his shoulder.

“Freeze!” a voice shouted, and Anna heard Worthington pounding up the stairs.

Red Cap whirled, still clutching his shoulder, and threw himself toward the darkness of the bathroom as — Worthington fired again, the bullet gouging wood in the doorframe as Red Cap disappeared from sight.

Then Worthington was at the top of the stairs, weapon and flashlight in hand. Stepping over the body on the floor, he pointed both toward the bathroom doorway.

“No place to go, asshole. Come out here. Now!”

But he got no response. No sound coming from in there at all.

Anna got to her feet and moved to Pope, who was no longer spasming. But his face was pale and he didn’t seem fully coherent.

“What the fuck?” he groaned.

“It’s all right,” she said, rubbing his arm. “You’ll be all right in a minute.”

Worthington took another step toward the bathroom. “Get your ass out here right now, motherfucker, or I swear to Christ I’ll let you bleed to death.”

He swept the bathroom with the flashlight beam and frowned. Moving carefully toward the doorway, he hesitated at the threshold, then stepped inside.

“Shit,” Worthington said, his voice reverberating against the bathroom tiles. “I don’t fucking believe it. He did it again. The son of a bitch did it again.”