Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 103620 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103620 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
And that’s what causes Anton to spin around and face me, sniper rifle pointed directly at my chest.
“Ah, Ms. Keene. This is certainly familiar, is it not?”
DANNY
The barrel of the rifle whips away from above so that I can no longer see it.
On the ground: Alec, Andra, Zander, two big guys with guns.
On the roof…
Christine.
I don’t see her. I don’t know for sure that she went up there. But I do. I can feel her.
I glance at Theo to make sure he’s still breathing and then I take off through the open door to the stairs…
And I run up.
Up.
Up.
Up.
To where I can feel that she needs me.
ALEC
As I start walking toward my old father, the okes with the guns get obviously nervous. I don’t know why, exactly. There is nothing my father could have possibly offered them that I would not also be able to provide if they were to ignore whatever orders he has given and come along with me instead.
But they can’t know that.
And, even if they do, loyalty is usually one part obligation and two parts habit. The devil you know being the one you stand by and all that.
I hold my arms out to the sides like some sort of Antichrist landing on the earth to scorch it all into oblivion and walk forward, talking as I go. As long as I can keep the conversation active, there may remain a chance. “My gun is down, man. What now?”
The man who would call himself Father looks at me warily.
“What now, man?” I repeat. “I am here. You said this is what you wanted, yeah? Me here. Them not. What would you have now?”
I am standing very close to him. Not unlike the way in which I approached Brasil Lynch on the bridge in Belfast. Much about this is the same, in fact. The only difference is that Zander is holding in his arms a valuable asset that must be accounted for.
Lest there be any confusion… not the diamond.
The crying child who is working valiantly now to stifle her tears.
“Let the girl go, man. Let her go and you and I will walk away. I give you my assurance that no one will ever come for us if you do as I ask.”
“Your assurance?” he says, both cynically and rhetorically. “I do not require anyone else’s assurance but my own, bru.”
It is like hearing an echo of myself speaking back to me. It is unpleasant.
“What else is there that you might want?” I ask.
“I don’t know that there is anything, my seun. You have made clear where your loyalties lie. You have made clear that you do not feel the same way about the van den Berg legacy that I do. But this one here…” He gestures with Andra as though she were a prop. “This one is still unformed. Ripe for molding. Perhaps it was a girl I needed all along, eh? Maybe she is to be the one to carry forth the work I have created.”
His madness is in full bloom and so very beyond logic or reason that I now see no amount of talking to him will create resolution.
Fortunately, I am spared having to make a decision about what to do next as the crack from atop the building makes it for me.
The shot going off pulls everyone’s attention skyward except mine.
I, instead, am drawn directly toward Andra, grabbing her from Zander’s arms and throwing my body atop hers as the two of us fall to the ground as one.
CHRISTINE
I dodge as the bullet from the sniper rifle pierces the night air.
As I’m diving, Danny comes bounding to the roof, shirtless, blood covering his face.
He races toward Anton, who turns the rifle on him. But before Anton is able to get off another shot, Danny tackles him around the waist and drives him backward into the low wall where he had been perched.
And that should be that.
Except I know from experience…
Anton is tougher than he looks.
His back arches as it snaps into the brick, but rather than shrieking out in pain, he just begins pummeling Danny. Right in the face. Right in the area where the shot from before has very likely cost Danny his eye.
Danny roars in agony, and I scramble to pick up the sniper rifle as shots ring out from the ground below.
DANNY
At least I’ve now found the one other person here who knows how to absorb pain and not bitch about it.
He’s strong. Unexpectedly, frighteningly strong. His fists barreling into my face feel like they’re made of iron. I have been hit by iron rods before, so I’m not just making it up. It’s fucking rough.
On top of which, bullets from submachine guns are now flying my direction. Maybe I’ll get lucky and one of them will hit Anton in the back of his goddamn head. The shots seem to be coming our way indiscriminately.