HARDCORE: Storm MC(98)

I gotta call Hunter, half of his brain said.



You can't, dickhead, the other half reminded him. You smashed your phone, remember?



He heard careful footsteps coming down the hall, and the creak of a floorboard.



The gun. His knew that his gun was still on the table in front of him, even though when he cast his eyes over to it, it seemed like it was a hundred miles away. Part of his mind screamed at him to reach for it and defend himself, while the other part sluggishly insisted that he didn't need to, that everything would be okay even if he was right and there was someone here to kill him, that he just had to relax and let it all work out on its own.



A human-shaped shadow appeared on the wall next to the hallway.



Fuck it, Cain thought, leaning forward and extending his arm toward the table. He could see the hand at the end of his wrist, and he could see the gun, but every time he tried to connect the two, they seemed to go in opposite directions instead of meeting in the middle. His eyelids were dragging themselves downward steadily and he felt as though the floor was reaching out to pull him down.



Cain fell forward, jostling the table to one side and knocking the gun off of it. As his chest hit the floor with a brief tinge of absent agony, he felt a nearby gunshot smack his ears like a pair of huge hands, and saw a bullet bury itself in a wooden board right next to his face.



That was enough to wake him up.



Cain's hand flailed toward his gun, finding the handle. His entire field of vision was filled with a silver-white mist, as though he were inside of a cloud. He rolled over onto his back and pulled the trigger, firing blindly at the intruder until he heard the click of empty chambers.



The mist in Cain's eyes briefly cleared, and he saw a man in a flannel shirt and cargo shorts pointing a gun at him. There were two holes in the man's chest which were already starting to ooze red, and half of his jaw was hanging off. The other three bullets had hit the wall behind him.



A moist gurgle escaped from the intruder's shattered mouth and his eyes rolled up in his head. He dropped his gun to the floor, then joined it a moment later.



Lucky shot, Cain thought. Three of them, actually. I should buy a lotto ticket today, with luck like that.



Then he passed out.





Chapter 20



Cain



Cain woke slowly to the sound of Hunter's voice. “Cain? Cain, can you hear me?”



He opened his eyes and saw Hunter's concerned face inches away from his own. Behind Hunter, Cain could see Bones and Keith wrapping up the intruder's body in a sheet of black plastic as Missy looked on nervously.



“Yeah,” Cain wheezed. His own voice sounded to him like a faint radio broadcast from a distant planet. “Jesus, I gotta start dating more. That's twice in two days I've had to wake up to your hairy face hanging over me. What happened?”



“Gaspar,” Hunter said grimly. “He ordered his guys to make another move on us. Well, two other moves, to be exact. Thank God neither of them panned out for 'im. Come on, lemme help you up.”



Hunter helped Cain onto the couch as Bones and Keith finished their work, securing the plastic around the body with duct tape. “Okay, let's haul this fucker outta here,” Keith said.



“Just a sec,” Bones replied. He fished in his pocket, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter.



“Oh, what the fuck?” Keith balked. “Yer not gonna smoke that nasty goddamn thing in here, are ya?”



“Why not?” Bones rasped, flicking the lighter. “This is hard work. I deserve a smoke break.”



“So wait 'til we're outside!” Keith insisted. “You got a room fulla people here who probably don't wanna choke on yer bullshit second-hand smoke, an' you're just gonna light up an' blow it all around their heads like it's no big deal? Does the social fuckin' compact mean nothin' to you?”



Bones considered the question seriously for a moment, then shook his head and lit the cigarette.



Before Keith could object further, Cain said, “Hey, Keith...he can smoke in here if he wants, all right? My house, my rules, my social compact.”



Keith opened his mouth to protest, then shut it again and nodded. “Glad yer okay, Cain,” he grunted. Bones put the lit smoke between his lips and the two men grabbed the wrapped body, lugging it toward the door to the garage. It left a wide trail of blood on the floor behind it.



“What did you mean, 'two other moves?'” Cain asked. “Is anyone hurt?”



“Everyone's fine,” Missy said. “I just had some unwanted attention at the store, that's all. I took care of it.”



“Well, from now on, you won't be going to the store, or anywhere else,” Hunter told her. “I'm gonna have Bones an' Keith take turns guarding the place.”