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A head wearing a baseball cap appeared above the bluff and the dog took off at speed, barking. Zep reached around to the gun he had in his waistband. Dodge had already drawn his.
“Bruce!” Scott called from the deck.
The body attached to the head emerged, a semi-automatic shotgun in his hand.
“Gun!” bellowed Zep, drawing his own.
Dodge fired.
The gunman started shooting, walking steadily towards the house.
“Get everyone out.” Zep shouted at Scott. “Dodge, get inside!” They needed to take cover, he wasn’t losing any more men today.
Shouting sounded from the house as Scott tried to herd confused guests out the front. Glass shattered, people screamed. Zep and Dodge sprinted inside.
“We need to flank him.” Dodge yelled above the chaos. Zep nodded, crouching behind the island bench.
Sirens whined in the distance as Scott landed heavily beside Zep.
“I can’t find Abby, she’s not with the others.” Scott was breathless, his eyes wide. In his hand was the gun Zep had given him at the hospital.
Fuck.The dog raced past them. “Check the bathroom, bedrooms.”
Scott nodded, launching himself towards the hall.
“Zep,” Dodge shouted. “It’s Brian Isobel!”
The gunman had reached the house, his feet crunching on the glass he’d shot out.
Zep rose to his feet, rage descending. The arrogant prick probably thought he could take Zep out all by himself. “Brian Isobel, you dog cunt.” He pointed his gun as Isobel turned.
The bullet hit Isobel right between the eyes. He fell in slow motion, his finger on the trigger releasing a final hailstorm. Zep felt two sharp stabs, like tiny rocks being pelted at him, in his gut.
“Prez?” Dodge’s eyes were wide.
He felt a burning sensation, slowly growing in his belly. Two red circles bloomed on his shirt. People were still screaming and yelling. Behind all the noise, Zep could hear the dog barking.Abby!
He followed the noise, pushing past the cops that had raced in the moment the shooting stopped. The dog was barking and scratching the bathroom door. Zep tried the handle–locked. He stood back, then rammed his shoulder against the door with all his might.
It crashed open. His eyes locked on Abby. Stella Isobel had one arm across her throat, holding Abby in front as a human shield. The other hand held a gun to her head. Time slowed. Zep could see the terror etched into Abby's face, her eyes pleading for help. Scott was behind him, trying to see past Zep.
“Where is my son?” hissed Stella.
“Dead.” Zep raised his gun. “Both your sons are dead. And you can join them in hell.”
As Stella opened her mouth, Zep pulled the trigger.
The shot echoed like a bomb detonating in the confined space and resetting the universal clock. Stella fell back, blood coating the mirror behind where she’d stood. Abby screamed, her hands covering her ears as she stumbled forward. Scott shoved him aside. The slow smoulder of pain in his gut suddenly ignited, stealing all the oxygen from his lungs. His legs went from under him, and he slid down the wall.
Zep wanted to get up, move out of the way but it felt like he had a wet, lead-weighted blanket covering him from his chest to his legs. His shirt was soaked through with blood. On the other side of the bathroom, Stella’s dead eyes stared back at him.
“Fuck.” Dodge knelt beside him, pulling towels from the railing, and pressing them against his stomach. “Hold on, Zep. I’m calling an ambulance.”
Zep grabbed his arm before he could stand. “Don’t bother.” He knew the bullets would have exploded inside and torn everything up. Only shock had gotten Zep this far.
“Fuck that,” said Dodge. There was fury in his eyes. He stalked out of the bathroom, yelling at the cops to call an ambulance.
The little dog, Bruce, crept up beside him, sniffing at the towels. Zep brought a hand to his head, patting him between the ears. The dog whined then curled up on his lap, the towels shielding him from most of the blood.
