Page 28 of Hurt

The moment the lights flared back to life in the room, his boot slammed into the door. Between the sudden bright light and the smashing of the door, the four guys in the room were stunned, looking in every direction and trying to blink their vision back.

“Hello, my name is Jamie, and I am here to ruin your day!” Jamie shouted gleefully, leveling the shotgun at the closest guy and pulling the trigger. The gun barked in his hands, sending a shot into the man’s face and chest. He screamed and clawed at the bloody wounds in his face.

By the time Jamie aimed at the second guy, a third was coming at him. He didn’t have a weapon, but his body weight and momentum slammed Jamie into the wall. Trying to keep his balance, he hit the man in the throat with the butt of his shotgun. A second punch with the stock and the man collapsed with a broken nose, spitting bloody teeth onto the floor.

Whipping the gun around, Jamie pulled the trigger and caught the third by surprise as he was running away. Blood spray arced across the white drywall as he collapsed.

Which left the fifth. Scanning the room, Jamie couldn’t see him. Dropping the shotgun, he withdrew his .454 Casull again.

“Here, kitty, kitty, kitty,” Jamie called, putting himself in front of the door. There were no other exits to the room except for the windows, and anyone escaping through the window would have a fun, yet brief, fall to the concrete below.

Hyperaware, Jamie listened for heavy breathing. There were very few places to hide in the room, but he didn’t know if the man had a weapon.

The room looked like it was some sort of employee break room. Two ugly couches were gathered around a TV that looked like it came straight out of 1975. A Formica table surrounded by crappy plastic chairs was pushed into the corner. The kitchenette was small—microwave and fridge with notices for clearly labeling your food and keeping the space clean.

His first victim was still gurgling. Blinded by the shot, he was having difficulty speaking.

“Eeny, meenie, miny, moe,” Jamie sang, walking over to him and pointing the gun at his head. “Catch a dumbass by the…” He paused. “I didn’t shoot you in the toe.”

Contemplating the guy, he moved the gun to the guy’s foot. The .50 cal took off most of his foot, but it was close enough.

“…by the toe! If he hollers, put another in his…” He sighed. “Fuck it. I can’t rhyme today.”

He shot him through the eye and then shot the guy who had tackled him into the wall. The shotgun had taken the third guy through the back, likely severing his aorta or lungs. Either way, he was dead and no longer Jamie’s problem.

From where he was standing, he could see a narrow opening between the fridge and the wall. Rolling his eyes, he approached and found the final guy squished into the narrow space.

“Wait, wait, please! I’m unarmed!” He held his hands out in front of him.

Jamie smiled and cocked his head. “Hi, unarmed.” He knelt down and pressed the gun against his temple. “I’m Dad.”

Jamie likes to think he would have laughed if he’d given him time.

Wiping the blood spatter from his face, he looked around the room. It was a disaster, but he hadn’t touched anything.

Pulling out his phone, he called Owen. “Don’t delete my fanfiction. I’m alive.”

“Thank god. I’m sure your readers would be worried.”

“Excuse me, I’ve got twenty thousand hits on my General Patton/Erwin Rommel slow burn.” He stepped over the bodies and flicked off the lights before closing the ruined door behind him.

He could hear Owen packing up his things. They had cut the CCTV cameras twenty minutes before arriving, and all that was left was to sanitize their hideout and get the hell out before the bodies were discovered.

“Who’s the top?”

“Surprisingly, they’re switch. Patton is a gentle lover.”

Owen sighed again.

The bus station was busy for this time of day. It was perfect. Elijah ducked into the crowds, seamlessly blending into the hustle and bustle of the lunch rush. The man in front of him was tall and skinny. He was wearing a thick turtleneck despite the heat of midafternoon.

He had followed the man from Congressman Thomas’ offices. This man had appeared at the Congressman’s office three times this week, always for around fifteen minutes, and then he would travel to the bus station. There was a locker hidden away in the back, tucked into a perfect spot to be missed by the CCTV cameras. He would stash an envelope there and then disappear.

Up until now, Elijah had been content to watch. But today, he needed to know what was in that envelope.

Grant and Roland had told him to keep his distance. His job was to stay out of sight, find out what was in the envelope, and then make it look like nothing had happened. They weren’t ready for the Vega Cabal to get suspicious yet. Not until after their big meeting.

So, Elijah was meandering through the crowd. He had taken off his typical suit and was wearing an oversized sweater and jeans. Feeling bereft without his usual attire, he felt better knowing all his knives were still firmly in place.