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Part 11
Page 1
Shujuan hit a wall. Hard.
She was panting. Shaking. Her arms were trembling
so much she could barely feel them. Hands still so numb they didn't even
register the gun in their grip. Hot and smoking, two shells spent.
Two down. Three left. Two left, and one for when
your shit was all gone to hell.
They said that after the first shot, it would be
easy.
Fuck.
She didn't even know where the first one had gone.
She'd seen a man, Triad, coming at her, right around a corner. Felt her
stomach twist at the bottom of her gut and her lungs hang frozen and her
arms moved of their own power, and with the hammer back the trigger squeeze
was nothing. But the kick. The recoil. The shake, violent jerk, felt like
something was going to rip her hand clear off.
The explosion had filled her head and thrown everything
else out. For a second she couldn't even see, didn't know what she was
looking at, couldn't understand the heat of the metal, the acrid smell,
the smoke so biting she squeezed her eyes tight shut.
Someone had laughed at her. Someone had said something
to her in Cantonese, barely coherent. 'Take your toy and go home, boy.'
She'd seen faces. Grinning faces and flashing black
magnums and something had turned over inside her and she'd ducked and rolled
as the first boom sounded, and then came another, explosion after shattering
explosion and the walls behind her splintered and sound turned into a waterfall
roar.
The second bullet had gone through someone's leg,
and his scream was still banging around inside her head.
Now she was somewhere else, god knew where, a hallway
or a room, and she could hear them even now, their murmured voices as they
searched for her or her body, whatever they found first. And she was leaning
on a wall, shaking so hard her vision blurred and her breaths coming out
like dry sobs.
People said after the first shot it would be easy.
Like they knew what the fuck they were talking about.
Shujuan could hear their voices closer now. On the
other side of the wall, just over the doors. If she got the jump on them,
got the gun up before they did...
Her thumb moved to pull back the hammer and stopped
halfway, still trembling. She didn't want to cock it. Didn't want the urge
to fire again. Didn't want to have to do that.
She closed her eyes until the nausea passed. Her
heart still pounded. Drum didn't even cover it.
When she opened them again, her gaze settled on
the opposite wall. A stack of crates, leading to the rafters, gutted crawlspace
between the floors. Leading right over the wall partitions. If she got
up those...
Shujuan nodded to herself. Swallowed a little to
keep her breath normal.
Right. Right, okay. She could do this.
No pockets in the leather. She bit down along the
gun barrel like a buccaneer knife, hitching up the trail of her coat as
she started to climb. Find a hold and haul up, arms burning, shaking, warm
metal getting wet in her mouth.
Up. Pull up. Come on.
She saw him from the catwalk. The nearest man. All
alone, away from the others, bearded and grinning like he'd been handed
some dinnertime entertainment. He shouted things to the others that she
couldn't focus enough to catch, as he looked around, checked corners, checked
everywhere but up.
If she timed it right, if she hit right, if she
landed and focused and steeled herself against the pain, if she could just
make it. If she jumped. If she could jump. If she could quell her stomach
and move to the edge of the beam and hold and lean and stop thinking about
that gunpowder taste in her mouth. If she could just do this.
Now. Now. Go.
Go.
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