Page 118 of Her Last Whisper

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Seventy-One

Randy swung at her with his fists, but she managed to stay clear from any direct hits. Ducking and diving to her left, she lunged forward and pushed her thumbs into his eyes. The shock made him stumble back, giving her an opportunity to run.

She took the chance, turned her back on him and ran into the kitchen where she remembered there was a folding chair leaning against the wall. Not missing a beat, she grabbed the chair and swung it at him, knocking him to the side. She swung again, missing him.

As she readied herself to pummel him with the flat part of the chair, he anticipated her action and pivoted himself, causing Katie to lose her balance. She fell toward the floor with the chair knocking the wind out of her.

He frantically crawled on his hands and knees and found the steel pole. He stood up and swung it, striking the floor just inches from Katie’s head. He stood above her. Sweat dripped from his face. His arms shook with fierce anger—rage he felt from all he had lost—the broken shell of a man who had lost everything and needed someone to blame.

Katie knew she couldn’t fight anymore;shewas now the woman that she couldn’t save.

The fire licked into the room, doubling in velocity as it headed towards them and all around them.

Just when she thought it was over, she heard a thunderous crash over the roar of the fire and a black blur catapulted through the window, landed, raced through the living room and leapt. Cisco had his jaws clamped to Randy’s shoulder, taking him down, simultaneously dislodging the pole from his hand. Once he was on the floor, Cisco shook him hard as he tried to fight back—to no avail. Cisco, trained to hold his grip, reattached his teeth into more areas, deeper and stronger each time.

The smoke thickened.

Flames crackled and flickered long tentacles of heat.

Randy screamed in pain, in rage.

Katie began to cough as the smoke filled her lungs.

Three loud shots rang out, splintering the locks as the front door burst open. McGaven filled the doorway with his gun positioned and ready.

Smoke billowed out in large rivers of black.

McGaven clamped his left hand over his mouth and nose for a moment—trying to control his coughing. Then he gripped the gun with both hands.

Katie yelled a command to Cisco: “Aus! Here, Cisco!”

The dog immediately released Randy and ran over to Katie, standing guard over her, tail down, waiting for the next command. Katie grabbed his collar.

Randy tried to get up to finish what he had started.

“Stay down on the ground!” McGaven yelled.

Randy grabbed the pole once again.

Cisco barked nonstop.

Katie pushed the dog to her side the farthest away from everyone, readying herself for what was about to happen. She kept them both low to the ground and began to crawl as they had done in the heat of battle—on their bellies, using elbows and legs to push them along.

“Drop it! Don’t do it, Randy!” McGaven yelled. “Don’t do it! Don’t make me do it!”

Randy stared back at McGaven; hesitating a moment as if he reflected their previous conversations, he slightly tilted his head—his eyes still crazed. Then he raised the pole toward Katie.

McGaven fired twice, dropping the security guard facedown next to Katie and Cisco. Blood spattered the wall beside them.

Katie and Cisco continued to crawl toward McGaven.

“Save her!” she yelled. “In there.” She waved to the room. “Please save her.” Katie saw that McGaven wanted to help her, but she could make it outside with Cisco’s help. McGaven rushed into the bedroom—and disappeared in the smoke.