Willing to Die (Alvarez & Pescoli)
Page 95
Blam!
A flash of blinding light.
He instinctively ducked.
Too late! Before he could react he was hit. His body jolted backward. His pistol flew from his hand, spinning wildly before dropping into a drift.
What the fuck?
He landed hard. Snow sprayed. White and red.
Oh, shit. Blood? His blood?
Instinctively, he put a hand over his chest. It came back sticky and wet. Blood smeared, dripping on his glove. Dazed, uncomprehending, he staggered to his feet. “What’re you doing?” he said, his words garbled, the earth and night sky spinning in his vision. Blood and spittle running from his mouth. Pain radiating from his middle. He was hit. Bad. He needed to get to a hospital.
“Collateral damage.”
With difficulty he focused on the Jeep, on the woman in the window. Her pistol was tracking him as he staggered, as if she intended to shoot him again. Dully he wondered what had gone so wrong. Collateral damage? Blinking, he saw her taking aim. What? “No—” He held up his bloody hand, fingers splayed, begging her to stop. This wasn’t supposed to happen! He was on his way to Calgary, a rich man—
“Sorry.” But the word held no meaning. She wasn’t sorry at all. Her face, a beautiful face, was set in stone. Evil. Jesus God, she intended to kill him! Like he’d killed Ronny.
With effort, he twisted, turning away, intending to run, to try and dig his gun from the snow.
Blam!
From the corner of his eye he saw the deadly flash.
His body jerked w
ildly as the bullet ripped through him, singeing flesh, doing all kinds of internal damage.
Jesus!
He stumbled. Pain ripped up his spine. This was all wrong. All wrong.
His legs wobbled. He tripped over something—oh, shit, it was Ronny’s body.
The gun. Get the gun. Kill her before she kills you!
Boxer reeled. His legs tangled.
The ground rushed up at him.
Thud!
He tried to get up, pushed himself to a sitting position.
Blam!
The forest seemed to shudder with the blast.
He fell back again, his head cracking against a rock buried in the snow, blood blooming from his rib cage.
Fuck.
The world started to go dark.
God, it was cold. So damned cold. He tried to blink, but his gaze was fixed, his eyes refusing to respond.