The Broken Room by Peter Clines

Author:Peter Clines
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Blackstone Publishing
Published: 2022-02-01T19:24:03+00:00

THIRTY

Hector yanked Natalie behind one of the pillars before the first gunshot echoed across the parking lot. His own pistol was in his hand, firing three quick shots up into the overhang. Lumps of cheap stucco and clouds of dust rattled down, filling the air, giving him time to swing Natalie to the other side of the pillar and fire two more shots.

The pillar burst apart near his hand and he yanked it back.

“They told me it was some badass named Hector,” the Doll called out, “and I thought no way, it can’t be. I mean, I half figured you’d drunk yourself to death by now.” She was still using the singsong tone that made people underestimate her.

Natalie opened her mouth to talk, but Hector set a quick finger across her lips, then his. He listened to the echo of the Doll’s voice, pictured the walkway and the pillars and the glass windows. He pushed his arm out, fired four shots at the concrete, and heard the sharp whine of ricochets followed by a rapid shuffling of feet.

New sounds echoed across the plaza. Screams, cries, yells. They all sounded more like fear than pain.

He swapped out magazines, dropping the half-empty one in a pocket and loading the full one. Still one in the chamber, no need to rack the slide and let the Doll know what he was doing. Let her think he’d wasted some of his ammunition.

Natalie tugged on his arm and pointed. One pillar back, behind them, a woman cowered on the ground. She had her phone out and was talking fast.

Hector looked back, then pressed his mouth close to Natalie’s head. “Run to the pillar. That side. Stay low.”

“No,” breathed Natalie. “She’ll see me.”

“She will, but she won’t shoot. You’re why she’s here.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Go.”

Natalie ran. Hector spun to the far side of the pillar and hurled himself across the hood of a pickup ambling through the parking lot, oblivious to the past thirty seconds. Classic rock blasted from the truck’s tinny speakers, and the driver shouted a few choice words at Hector. Then a pair of bullets slammed into the pickup’s front panel and the man shut up, throwing himself flat across the bench seat.

The pickup rolled forward a few more feet, and Hector walked with it, keeping his legs behind the tire. He saw a pair of honey-blond braids spin away and fired a round after them. A second shot sent the Doll diving behind a double row of plastic shopping carts. She sent two rounds back in his direction, and the pickup’s front tire sagged, bringing it to a halt.

“Don’t make this harder than it has to be!” She’d dropped the act, and her natural, oddly husky voice echoed out from the carts.

“Oh, hey!” he yelled back. “Good to see you too, Jules!”

“Just go back to your bottle, Foxy. They don’t even know who you are, and they don’t care.”

“Sorry. Can’t do it.” He kept his head low and stared at the store window, trying to catch a reflection, watching for movement.

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