I waited several seconds, the only sound my heart thumping in my chest. Then I edged forward again….
Another blast of gunfire and this time the bullets passed so close, I heard them hiss past my face. I pulled back against the container, poked the assault rifle around the edge, and blind-fired, holding down the trigger for a second, to keep him from coming around the corner. Then I stood there cursing up a storm. He had us pinned down. We were safe as long as we stayed put, but if we stayed put, we couldn’t stop him. And at any point, he could just walk away, keeping his gun on us, and escape.
Even as I thought it, he started to do just that. The sun was throwing his shadow on the ground and I could see him backing towards the fence, his gun still pointed at us. Shit!
He reached the fence. I heard it rattle as he pushed his way through it. There was the sound of tearing cloth and cursing in Russian. Then he was through and backing away across the wasteland, his shadow getting smaller and smaller.
I checked my rifle and cursed again. I only had one round left.
Ralavich was hurrying, now. He could hear the sirens wailing, just as I could, but it sounded like the cops had only just now arrived at the maze. They still had to thread their way all the way to this end. He’s going to get away!
I had to step out from the cover, exposing myself, and take the shot.
It might get me killed. But if I let Ralavich escape, he’d hurt more women. And Bethany would never be able to relax, knowing he was out there.
I took two quick breaths and then whipped around the container, bringing the rifle up to my eye.
Time slowed down. It felt as if I was moving through molasses. It took me a second to locate Ralavich, about four hundred yards away, running across the wasteland, checking over his shoulder every few seconds. And I’d emerged just as he did one of his checks. I saw him see me and his eyes narrow with hate. He raised his gun and fired, spraying bullets towards me. Unlike me, he didn’t have to aim carefully: he had plenty of rounds to waste.
I heard bullets zip past me, making the metal container ring like a bell. One plucked at my shirt. Then one scored a line along my thigh and I grunted, a shudder rocking my body. My sights wavered and shook.
I gritted my teeth and thought of Bethany. Do this for her. I imagined her wrapped around me from behind, her hair brushing my face, her kisses on my neck. My hands steadied. I took a breath, let it out halfway and held it.
I fired my one remaining bullet.
And Ralavich staggered and fell. He went full length in a puddle, sending up a spray of muddy water, and his gun went flying.
I walked over to the fence, staggering a little myself. There was a red slash across my upper thigh, not deep but painful. I found a hole in the fence and ducked through, Rufus right behind me.
We took our time getting to Ralavich. He wasn’t going anywhere: I’d put a bullet right through his upper thigh. A body shot would have been easier but that might have killed him and he deserved to rot in prison for the rest of his life.
As we approached, he struggled to get up but then fell back on the ground, groaning and cursing. His expensive suit was ripped, from where he’d struggled through the fence, his pants were soaked with mud and he’d lost one of his handmade leather shoes when he fell.
Just as we reached him, he made a lunge for the gun he’d dropped. I kicked it out of reach. With a howl of fury, he scrambled to his feet one last time and swung his fist at my face.
I dodged backward and gave him a very satisfying punch right in the jaw. He fell back in the mud. Rufus pounced, putting his full weight on Ralavich’s chest and snarling into his face. Ralavich went limp, defeated.
I glanced over my shoulder towards the control room: I could feel Bethany watching over us like a protective angel. When I looked at Ralavich again, the anger on his face had been replaced by fear and horrified disbelief. He couldn’t believe he’d finally been brought down not by the police, not by the FBI, but by a woman, a man, and a dog.
“Good boy,” I told Rufus, ruffling his fur. “Very good boy.”
Epilogue
Bethany
Three Months Later
“Okay,” I called. “Pass the next one up. I got this.”
I was ten feet up in the air, straddling a roof beam and swinging my legs in the air, basking in the Colorado sunshine. Cal climbed the ladder step by careful step, his head rising into view from below, a log balanced on his shoulder. I leaned down and kissed him, then helped him maneuver it into place. Then I sat back and grinned. We had a long way to go: we had the floor laid and the walls up but there was no glass in the windows and the roof was just a frame. Slowly, though, our new home was taking shape.