Page 23 of Agony

The two shots came from the side of the bar.

One bullet pierced Mouse’s throat and the other plunged into the boy’s chest.

Blood spattered, covering Fisher.

Instinct had him sliding off the chair and pulling Mouse beneath the table.

Another bullet cleaved into the wall where his head had been. He shoved over the table and took cover. He placed his fingers on Mouse’s pulse but found none.

The boy was gone.

Crawling over Mouse’s dead body, Fisher moved on all fours through the back swinging doors and into the hallway beyond.

He was up and running to the back exit.

If he could get the fucker outside, he’d end him like vapor. He shoved back his anguish and grabbed onto the rage that swelled like a fucking hurricane.

It was easy to disappear into the shadows of the alley and it was there that Fisher waited.

Poised to kill. Needing to kill. His fists covered with blood.

He needed to feel the life drain out of whoever had killed Mouse.

But the bar backdoor stayed closed.

Had the gunman left after shooting Mouse?

Did that mean the guy got away?

Fuck that!

Fisher sprinted down the alley and careened around the corner. He raced down the shadows that clung to the building, staying out of the street light glow until he reached the parking lot of the bar.

A man hurriedly walked across the parking lot toward a row of parked cars.

“Hey!” Fisher yelled, hoping to startle the asshole.

The man turned and fired and Fisher ducked. But that one quick glance had been enough for Fisher to get a look at the fucker’s face. He returned fire, blowing out the windshield when the man ducked behind a car.

“He wants you home, Fisher. Don’t make this difficult.”

Fisher stayed quiet, hunkered down, waiting for a clean shot.

“Don’t jeopardize more lives,” the voice yelled.

Gripping his nine-millimeter, his knuckles turned white. He lifted up to take aim and fired in the direction of the voice. Another bullet punched into the car near his head and Fisher took cover.

Sirens blared from down the street and he knew he was out of time.

It didn’t matter.

He knew that face and voice like he knew his own fucking hand.

Dodging back, he sprinted down the block and away from the bar. He launched up a fire escape of a nearby building and fucking flew over the asphalt roof.

He’d jump the distance between the two buildings when he got there. The leap was far and he made it by a fraction of an inch and kept running.

All the while, his mind raced with one question.

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