Destroyer 023 by Childs Play

Author:Childs Play
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SIX

Remo saw the little pink index finger tighten on the trigger, and while his own body could not advance on an

attack, it could move away. Remo's left hand snaked behind him to Sashur Kaufperson's waist, and using the

weight of her body and his, he split them both so, like two pendulums colliding, they each bounced to opposite

sides of the elevator and the .25 caliber slug plinked into the new polished wood of the wall. It dug a neat dark

hole. So did the next. And three others. The elevator door closed. The last shot hit the outside with the sound

of a dish breaking on one sharp rock.

Remo was up and helping Sashur to her feet.

"He has hostile tendencies," she said. "I guess he has difficulties relating to

extracurricular visits."

"He's a killer," said Remo, pressing the "open"

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button. He was shaken. His body had never failed to respond before, taut unless the gun had

a seventh bullet, he was in no danger. The door opened. Another little dark hole

appeared in the polished wood of the elevator wall. Seven bullets.

"Fucking kid is a killer," said Ms. Kaufperson, noticing a hole through her Gucci blouse.

Alvin was fast in his sneakers. He threw the gun wildly away as he turned a corner.

Remo was around the corner with him in a loping shuffle. Alvin tried to run behind a man

built like a wide landslide, a mountain of a landslide. His forearms were almost as big as

Remo's neck.

"Hey, you, leave my kid alone."

His massive weight balanced evenly on size fourteen shoes. He stuck out an arm

confidently as if it were a wall against this thin fellow following his son. His eyes teared just

slightly as his rib cage collapsed into his lower intestines. His sphincters released his digested

breakfast into his pants. He decided standing was too much for what was left of his body so

he collapsed to the light maroon carpeting of the hallway.

Remo was into the apartment proper after Alvin. A bleached blonde, with hair in silver

curlers, tried to shut the door. The door bounced back into her face.

Alvin made it to the bathroom, locking it behind him. He saw the lock pop out in a halo

of splinters onto the white tile floor.

"Hello, Alvin," said Remo, cornering him in the bathtub. He wanted, at least, just to slap the kid but the hand

that could become a shatterer of molecule chains could not move. So Remo looked menacing. In all his

training, he had never

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learned to look fearsome. Everything was aimed at appearing harmless, even through the hit. He even stood

with great quiet. His body was quiet. He menaced with his voice. It worked, and the shattered lock on the floor

didn't hurt any either.

"You're in trouble."

"Dad!" yelled Alvin.

"He's not going to help."

"Mom," yelled Alvin.

"She's not going to help." "Ms. Kaufperson."

"Coming, Alvin. Don't be afraid," yelled Sashur.

"Be afraid," said Remo.

"You can't hurt me," said Alvin.

"What makes you think so?"

"There are laws," said Alvin.

"Alvin, you have two seconds to tell me who gave you the order to hit Pell. Or

your head goes like this.

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