Authors: Rob Kitchin
I pull to a stop.
‘There’s an exit out into the hotel grounds at the end of this corridor,’ I say to Sally. ‘I want you to get out and go and hide in the trees, wait for the police to arrive.’
‘I’m not leaving you.’
‘You’ve just told me you don’t want to die. The way out is that way.’ I point along the corridor. I wish she would make her mind up.
‘I don’t want to die, but I’m not going out there on my own! What are you planning on doing?’
‘I’m going to try and rescue Jason and Paavo. They should be in there.’ I point into the ballroom; that’s the territory that Fat Barry seems to be defending. It really would be easier if she left for both her and I. She’s a complete liability given the state she’s in presently.
There’re more shots
in the lobby.
Sally’s face is twisted in indecision.
‘Sally, just get out of here.’ I push her towards the exit, then turn my attention to the doors into the ballroom.
I gently push open the
door on the left and look through the gap back towards the lobby entrance. Fat Barry is just inside the door, half his bulk in the gap leading in behind a bar. On the parquet dance floor in front of the bar, six or eight feet from the large, two storey high windows looking out onto the swimming pool area, are the prone figures of Jason and Paavo.
I squeeze my head further into the room and look around. At the far end is a stage framed by two large, red velvet curtains, stage scenery depicting the interior of
an apartment still in place. Up above, the glass roof is covered in grime and moss. Grasses and bushes have taken root in the concrete surrounding the swimming pool area, pressing up against the glass. The ballroom itself is empty, but it’s like a hothouse after the sweltering day.
It’ll be almost impossible to get across the room without
Fat Barry spotting me. What I need to do is circle round to the swimming pool area and come in through glass doors, or work my way down the windows from the far side of the stage.
A hand taps me on the shoulder. I clunk my head on the door reeling back and round, my heart having fallen out my backside.
Sally is standing there bug-eyed.
‘Jesus, Sally! I thought I told you to leave.’
She doesn’t reply. I think she might have gone into shock or something.
The door from the reception lobby opens and Redneck hobbles through holding an Uzi.
Oh Christ!
I grab Sally’s hand and dart for the stair
case leading upwards.
There’s a rattle of gunfire and the plaster on the corner
of the stairwell blisters with ugly welds.
I drag Sally up the stairs as fast as I can manage. It would be a lot easier if she hadn’t
slipped into some kind of addled state.
‘You’re a dead man walking, chickenshit,’ Redneck yells after us.
‘A dead man.’
* * *
At the top of the stairs we turn left heading into the unlit gloom, Sally trouping after me as if she’s sleep walking. At the far end is a fire door, its handles tied together with a heavy chain held in place with a large padlock. I shake the door in vain, then we turn right, heading across the back of the upper level of the stage, then zigzag out onto a corridor lined with bedrooms, windows on the right-hand side giving a view down on to the swimming pool area. The bottom of the pool is filled with muddy water and dead leaves. On the left, a set of stairs heads back down.
I start down and Sally holds me back.
‘I need to rescue Jason and Paavo,’ I say to her.
Reluctantly she follows
. At the first floor the stairs continue down into darkness. To the right, four steps lead up to a door that must open onto the backstage. In front of us, there’s a door into the swimming pool area and to the left the corridor provides access to a number of bedrooms.
Somewhere close by two shots
are fired.
Sally flinches and hide
s herself behind me, trembling. I need to find somewhere safe to leave her. God only knows how many people are running around taking potshots at each other. Too damn many, that’s for sure.
I head for the first bedroom
, dragging Sally with me, and try the door. It’s unlocked. We enter the empty room. The carpet has been lifted, leaving floorboards flecked with paint, and the light fittings have been removed so that bare wires hang free from the walls. There are no curtains framing the window, but on the outside bars have been fitted to stop trespassers entering.
I turn back to the old fashioned door. It’s never been converted to a keycard system and there’s a key hanging in the lock. Thank
God for small mercies.
I close the door and lock it, then I steer Sally into the en-suite bathroom.
‘Sally, I want you to listen to me. I’m going to leave you here, okay? I want you to lock the door behind me, come into the bathroom and lock this door as well. Then I want you to lie down in the bath and wait for me to come back. Don’t open the door to anybody except me. Nobody.’
She stares back at me vacantly.
‘Sally!’ I shake her, trying to get through.
She nods her head.
‘I’ll be back for you once I’ve got Jason and Paavo. I won’t be long.’
‘I don’t want to die, Tadhg.’
‘You’re not going to die. Just lie in the bath and wait for me. I’ll be back to get you, I promise.’
I turn to head back to the corridor.
‘Tadhg?’
I glance back at her.
She shakes her head. Whatever she was going to say has gone.
I exit the room and wait until I hear the key turn in the lock. She should be okay for five or ten minutes and it’ll be easier to move around without her.
The door into the pool area isn’t locked. I push it open and step cautiously outside. The air is thick and muggy, the sky starting to turn a darker shade of blue, the first stars twinkling. I stand and listen, but it’s eerily quiet. I think I preferred it when there were shots being fired. At least then I had some idea as to where the bad asses were.
I creep
, crouch-walking along the edge of the swimming pool, through the tufts of high grass and scraggy shrubs. The water in the pool stinks of stagnant water, musky and muddy, like freshly exposed compost. If anybody is staring out from the ballroom, or from the bedroom corridor, or the level above, then I’m a sitting duck. It’s not a good feeling. On the sphincter scale it’s way up there, hovering at around ‘guts about to turn inside out.’
As I get near to where Jason and Paavo must be in the ballroom, I can see a pair of legs
sticking out from behind a small bush, the torso hidden.
Oh shit
!
I
edge forward, my gaze switching right and left, wondering who the legs belong to and where his attacker might be. As I reach the body I can see it is Juan lying on his back, his head at an odd angle compared with his shoulders. His eyes are glassy, staring up at the sky. His dreams of a new life with Kate and a million dollars had disappeared with the crack of his neck.
A couple of feet in front of
him, the door into the ballroom is ajar. I edge forward and peer in. Jason and Paavo are no longer there. Fat Barry is slumped over the bar counter, a pool of blood has spilled over its surface, dribbling down its front to the parquet floor. Over by the door from which I originally peered into the room Cowboy is lying prone, a puddle of blood surrounding his head. Juan’s shot in the mall might not have killed him, but it seems that Fat Barry or somebody else has finished the job.
I’ve no
idea where Jason and Paavo are. Maybe Annabelle freed them, or maybe somebody else has taken them into captivity, but the priority now is to get back to Sally and for the pair of us get the hell out of here. Whilst everyone else is armed with an assortment of firearms, all we’ve got is frayed wits and they’re near their end.
An arm circles my torso, trapping my arms by my side, t
he attacker’s free hand clamping over my mouth.
FUCK!
My heart is beating like a pneumatic drill, trying to force its way out through my ribcage. My guts are no longer about to turn inside out, they have done. I try to thrash my way free of the vice grip, but I’m held firmly in place.
Double fuck with bells on
!
‘Tadhg, it’s me,’ Paavo whispers in my ear. ‘I’m going to let you go, okay?’
I nod my head.
He removes his hand from my mouth, then his arm from my torso. I turn to face him.
He’s got a black eye and a crooked nose and he’s holding a handgun. A big one.
‘Are you okay?’ he whispers.
‘I’ve been better. Where’s Jason?’
‘With Annabelle.
I think that fucker broke Jason’s arm.’
‘What are you still doing here?’
‘Looking for you and Sally. Where is she?’
‘She’s safe. Locked in a bedroom over there,’ I point along the side of
the swimming pool.
‘Freeze
, motherfuckers,’ Barry White growls.
Paavo shoves me to the ground and dives the other way, letting two shots fly.
‘Get out of here,’ Paavo orders. ‘I’ll deal with this fucker.’
‘Paavo,
’ I hiss, backing towards the door into the ballroom.
‘
Just go,’ he orders.
‘
Paavo, he’s already kicked your ass twice. Once in John Philips’ café and once when he caught you earlier.’
‘But now we’re even,’ Paavo
shows me a pistol. ‘And it’s payback time.’ He scurries off using his elbows and knees, almost horizontal to the ground.
It seems I’ve officially re-handed the role of John McClane back to Paavo. It was a role for which I was hopelessly mis-cast.
I’m not sure Paavo fits the bill much better. He might have had army training, but he was a cook for goodness sake.
There’s a hissing
pop and the window behind me cracks around a small hole.
Barry White is still using his silencer.
I back quickly through the door. The window is hit again and shatters.
Fuck!
There’re
two more loud bangs outside, the noise echoing around the walls, which I assume is Paavo returning fire.
I rise to my feet and dash the length of the ballroom up onto the stage and in behind the scenery. I pause to
catch my breath.
There’s three down – Juan, Fat Barry and Cowboy – which leaves
Barry White, Denise, Redneck, Kate, and possibly Young Barry, if his siblings picked him up before turning round. Pirelli, The Rock and God knows who else might be in the mix depending on how fast they get here. All of them are armed.
Then there’s Sally, Annabelle, Jason,
Paavo and myself, only one of whom has a weapon. Sally is practically catatonic with fear and Jason has a suspected broken arm. The priority has to be to get Sally out of the building and hidden and then to return to help the others escape.
I start towards the door leading out into the corridor
where I’d left Sally.
‘Going somewhere, Sugar?’
I turn slowly on my heels.
Denise steps out from behind a piece of sce
nery, pointing a small gun at my chest. Her face is streaked in tears.
‘We meet again, Tadger.’
‘Tadhg.’
‘Whatever. Put your hands on your head.’
I comply with her request. This isn’t good. Like Sally she appears to verging on hysteria, only she has a gun. Slapping her face is likely to end with a bullet exploding out the back of my head.
‘Have you seen what that redneck fucker did to my baby brother?’
She points down at Cowboy.
I nod my head.
‘First that Kathy bitch runs off with my husband, then some pencil dick redneck kills my baby brother. I’m having the day from hell. Now give me the Goddamn cap.’
‘Look, Denise, there’s nothing in the cap,’ I try and reason, suddenly feeling quite calm. I’m probably about to die,
but it no longer seems to matter. I’ve been trying to outrun death all day and it’s finally caught up with me.
‘That fucker down there told me about the cap before I blew his fucking brains out. Do you want me to blow your fucking brains out, Tadger?’
‘No.’
‘Then give me the
Goddamn cap!’
There are shots out towards the lobby area.
‘Look, Denise, about Junior, I know where he is.’
‘Do I look like a fool to you, white boy? Give me the
Goddamn cap.’
‘Your brother, Leroy, shot him.
Blew his brains all over my hall wall. I was there.’
‘You
’re lying. This is your last warning, Tadger.’