Page 33 of Pure Killers

I flinch at a close, loud one. “Fucking shit,” I say, the nerves and adrenaline not lending to anything more poetic.

As much as this says about Tregam, this is hardly the first time Dirk and I have needed to take cover behind a car.

“We need to get round the back of the house. He’s got this side covered.”

“You think it’s the partner?”

“Much as I hate to say it, it pretty often is.”

“Backup?”

More breaking glass.

“You want to get into the driver’s seat for the radio right now?”

Off towards the corner of the house, I eye a shed. Galvanised metal. “Do you think I can make it there?” From there, I could find cover to the back of the house.

“No,” Dirk tells me, crouching down on his feet. “I will.”

“Don’t you dare…”

But he’s already at the corner of the tailgate, about to go whether I like it or not. “Send a couple rounds at the front door, will you?”

I let off another few choice curses and do as he asks. He makes it, our attacker gone quiet while I shoot in his direction.Watching Dirk sneak around the side, I wait. Another beat, the gunshots are following him. Taking my chance, I race for the front door, not slowing down as I launch up the steps and right into it. It splinters, and I’m abruptly in a dark hallway. The lights are off, the shuttered windows doing little to help. Edging right, I aim the gun at the shadows with one hand and reach out with the other to give the drapes a sharp tug. Light floods in. The once regal place is trashed, the white plush carpet stained, glass shattered off the edges of the tables.

I turn further into the house, gun out front. The trick now is not to shoot Dirk if he appears first.

The sound of my name takes me by surprise. A casual call, not one of panic, but still my heart hammers louder, and I quicken my steps in his direction. I see him standing in a doorway. “Shh! Take cover!” I hiss.

But Dirk only stays where he is. “It’s over.”

Lowering my gun, I creep up beside him. When I look into the room, I see what he means. “Shit,” I say.

“Yeah.” Dirk runs a hand down his face. “Was he scared of us? Or of Needler?”

That, I don’t know. What I know is we need to call this in. The partner is dead, gone mad, scared, or both. “I’ll go out to the car radio to call it in,” I say.

“Look,” Dirk crouches, forestalling me. There are keys by the body. Not car keys. He picks them up, plucking them off the carpet. “Office keys? The party wouldn’t give a warrant for the headquarters in the city, remember?”

Plucking them out of his hand, I remind him, “And they still haven’t.”

Dirk stands. “It’s not like we’re looking for evidence on the case against these creeps. They’re both dead now, anyway. We’re looking for what the Needler might have seen, how he found his information on them.”

“Don’t split hairs. It’s illegal.”

“We’ll toss the keys and say it was unlocked.”

“Dirk!”

“Will you unclench El? If they get in there for this case, they’ll toss anything that could have been useful for our case. It’s just…”

Right when I’m about to properly tell him off, I notice his sleeve. “You’re bleeding!”

He tilts his head, dark hair falling across his eye as he tugs at the small, frayed hole by his bicep. “Huh.”

***

The ambulance arrives first. It was just a nick; the bullet grazed Dirk's upper arm, as he reminds me and everyone else caring for him. The forensics arrive next, and I watch them walk into the house. When they're out of earshot, Dirk points out, voice low, "You've still got the office keys."

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