Rock Her(31)

Kip made a quick look around the stairway rail and below. The shooter could not be seen. But he could make out the top of the door cracked open and holding still. The shooter must have been squatted and looking outside, surveying the alley.

This was a perfect time to make his move, but there was no way for him to take even one step down. The acoustics in the hall were such that the footstep would be echoed throughout the stairwell, no matter how light he planted it.

Kip searched his mind and memory of his combat tactics for a solution, and before he finished his thought, he found himself rising and launching his body over the rail. It was this kind of thing that got him a John Wayne label back in Afghanistan: acting before fully thinking things through. He thought more on the way over the rail, and realized this was a deadly bad idea. Another realization came to him on the way down as he first laid eyes on the crouched would be assassin. Fuck, I know this asshole!

The asshole looked up and saw Kip flying toward him just before the rocker slammed into him. The shooters rifle slammed against the cracked open door and it flew open. Both of the men, locked together, Kip with a death grip on his prey, rolled out into the sunlit but still wet alley behind the apartment building. They rolled together through the puddles and garbage that made up the potholed and cracked pavement until they crashed into a cluster of galvanized garbage cans, sending them scattering against the opposite wall. Kip let the man free as he stumbled to his feet. The shooter lost his rifle in the attack, and it skittered away across the alley. As the man stood, Kip steadied himself for his rush. He recognized the same dirty overcoat from two nights before. The homeless looking autograph seeking assassin. What the hell is going on here?

The man rose slowly and began to circle as he pulled his torn and filthy duster back into place. He was obviously trying to get closer to his rifle, which had come to rest by the stairwell door they had just burst through. Then he raised his head and looked into Kip’s questioning eyes. He reached up and smoothed out his beard, and Kip noticed more oddity. His hands were clean. This is no bum.

“Why the hell are you trying to kill me?” Kip kept his distance, but turned his body to always stay facing this nut job.

“What? Kill you?” The man said, a look of humor had come over his face.

Kip was taken aback by the reaction. Could it be that this guy is so far gone he doesn’t know what he’s doing?

Then Kip watched as the man stepped slightly closer to his rifle, and Kip too better stock of the man’s weapon. A Mossberg Tactical AR-15, a thirteen hundred dollar weapon pretty much anywhere you bought it. And it was in perfect condition. None of this was adding up. Something else too. As the man took another step toward his rifle, Kip noticed his shoes. The water from the alley was beading on the well-oiled patent leather. Bum my ass!

“Who said I was trying to kill YOU?” the man said, just as he quickly bent to pick up the rifle. Before his hand made it to the stock, the door swung wide and an iron bar swung down on him from inside the building, knocking him to the ground. It gave Kip the split second he needed to cover the distance and tackle the man again, drawing him out of reach of the rifle. But as they rolled, the man ended up on top and with a lucky move, he managed to get his hands on each side of Kip’s head. He banged his skull into the gravelly pavement, sending Kip into buzzing state, nearly unable to see anything except the man’s fist recoiled and inches from his face, about to plant directly into his nose.

Again, the metal pipe came down from out of Kip’s peripheral vision. It impacted on the back of the hobo assassin’s neck, sending him rolling over Kip and away. Then Annie was there, kneeling over Kip, her hands cupping his head. When his vision cleared, he turned his gaze from her tear filled face to the fleeing bum. His duster the last thing he saw as the man turned the corner and disappeared from the alley.

Kip took a deep breath and tried to sit up. Annie helped him to a sitting position and started to examine the back of his skull.

“Annie, what the hell are you doing here?” Kip said. Didn’t I tell you to stay put.

Annie paused what she was doing and put her face in front of his. “You’re welcome.”

“Kip smiled at her. “Okay, thank you for saving me. But really, why are you here? Where are the cops?”





“They are across the street, swarming my apartment building. Probably looking for me and you,” she said.

“Okay again,” Kip said. “But why aren’t they here? This is where all of the action is.”

“I suppose because they haven’t figured that out yet.”

“Well,” Kip said, “How did you know I was here?”