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Judgment—
A quick image of Henry Wilburt’s fat, naked body hovering over a prostitute jerked into Matt’s mind. The girl’s eyes bulged out, her face blue. His hands were still around her throat.
Then Matt was back in the gym.
He was still gripping the barrel of Peterson’s shotgun when he pulled the trigger.
Matt saw the man’s finger twitch, shoved the barrel as hard as he could to the side as he fired, and while the shot missed, the metal scorched Matt’s palm and he had no choice but to let go.
Peterson wasted no time.
He stumbled back a step, put some distance between them, and brought the weapon back around, centered on Matt’s chest. “Judgment time, Deputy! Give my best to Ellie!”
Addie came from behind him and jumped on Peterson’s back. He twisted slightly, just enough for the shot to go wide—rather than center mass, it grazed Matt’s shoulder.
Addie yanked Peterson’s head back by his hair, got her fingers around his face, and pressed her long nails into his eyes. The man let out an inhuman screech and tried to buck her off, but she only pressed harder.
Matt grabbed the Colt from Gabby’s hand and shot Peterson in the eye. The man dropped, Addie under him.
People were running; some fell trying to get down from the bleachers. Others were at the doors, yanking on the chains and locks as bodies pressed against them from behind, all trying to get out, nobody able to.
Through all of this, Matt had forgotten about Cody Hill, and when he looked over, the boy was busily attempting to reattach the wires of a remote detonator to the explosive vest strapped to his chest.
“Drop it!” Matt shouted, pointing the Colt. “Drop it now!”
He wouldn’t. That was Matt’s first thought. This kid was ready to die. Ready to take them all with him. The sight of the gun only made Cody’s fingers move faster; he’d gotten one wire reattached and was trying to work the screw meant to hold the other with his fingernail.
“Goddamnit, Cody! Now!”
The boy froze.
The remote detonator dangled from his hand for a moment,then he let it go. It broke into several pieces when it hit the floor. “Okay, Deputy. Okay.”
“Take off the vest. Slowly.”
“Okay.”
He began to work the clasps, his nervous eyes darting around all the faces watching him. His gaze settled on a girl in the fifth row of the bleachers. Matt recognized her—Marcie Holden.
“Marcie!” Cody shouted up at her. He jerked his thumb toward the back corner of the gym. “It’s Malcolm Mitchell! He’s right there! Do it! Do it now! Before he gets out!”
Matt’s mind tried to connect the dots but it wasn’t until he saw the Motorola radio in Marcie’s hand that he understood. “There’s another bomb! Everyone get down!”
Marcie wouldn’t do it.
He wanted to believe that.
And when her hand fell to her side, he was certain of it.
Then she twisted some dial on the radio and pressed the button, squeezing her eyes shut as she did.
Matt saw both Addie and Gabby standing there.
He dove, knocked them both to the ground, his body over them.
Matt felt the heat of the blast, but he never heard it. The gym erupted in a ball of flames, the pressure so great, parts of the roof sailed a hundred feet into the air before the entire structure came down around them.
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