And Hope to Die by Roger Ormerod

And Hope to Die by Roger Ormerod

Author:Roger Ormerod [Ormerod, Roger]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Endeavour Press
Published: 2014-10-30T00:00:00+00:00


10

As we made a move towards leaving, he shot a quick glance around the room before he made a gesture indicating that I was to precede him. Out in the hallway, I could see that he had left his front door wide open again. Coming in — going out — it was all the same. He might just as well have unscrewed the door from its hinges.

‘I do admire your umbrella stand,’ I said, as we passed it.

‘For a time I tried wood carving,’ he told me. ‘But I was no good at it. That was only making a hole down the middle. Dead easy.’

‘The idea was good, though. And it looks fine — and unusual.’

‘It looked better with the shotgun in it.’ He was moody. Along the path outside, I could hear him plodding after me. I glanced back. The fool still hadn’t closed his door, had left it swinging wide.

‘You’ve left it open ... again,’ I said, and laughed at his expression.

We were, at that time, about thirty yards from the house. He hesitated. Perhaps to walk back that distance didn’t seem worth the trouble. Then, ‘Catch you up,’ he said, and he began to lope back.

I was watching him every inch of the way. Beyond him, the hallway was a black tunnel against the sun. I raised my hand to shield my eyes, as a sudden burst of additional bright light flashed out at us from the shadowed depths of the hall, for part of a second rivalling the sun, and a vast clap of sound, an explosion of sound, followed so closely that it was impossible to say which had caused which.

It was as though this shock of blinding noise caught Wilfred in mid-stride. One foot seemed to be suspended in the air for an eternity. Then the other foot appeared to twist into the ground, the outer edge of his shoe digging in so that he tripped, fell on one shoulder, rolled over, and lay very still, limply motionless, and all this had happened while the impact of sound still hung in the air. It was only then that I realised it was a gunshot I had heard, the explosion of a shotgun cartridge in its breech.

‘Wil ... fred!’ I shouted, tried to shout, choked on.

Then by instinct more than intention, I was running to him, to help him, when once again I was blinded by that same flash, way down the hallway, and almost instantly I was assaulted by the burst of sound. Then a weight struck me in the left shoulder and arm, ruining my balance, as Wilfred’s balance had been disturbed, so that I tripped over him and twisted, and even before I hit the ground I was trying to throw my body so that I could fall on my right side. This was because I was well aware, distinctly and quite unemotionally, that I’d been shot in the left arm by a shotgun.

I recall the hot flush of the pain, and the shock in my arm as though somebody had punched me.



Download



Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.