Page 98 of Deadly Attraction
Nothing happened. No bullets came speeding out to wipe the smirk off his face. Blood didn’t bloom on his chest. Or his stomach. Or anywhere else.
Not because she had poor aim.
Someone removed the bullets from my gun.
Bewildered, she pulled the trigger again.
Click.
Emma’s heart clenched, her pulse suddenly loud in her ears.
Linda Brown sauntered in from the hall, sidling up to Chris. She was dressed in typical Resistance gear: brown pants tucked into boots, a brown jacket over a black T-shirt with a picture of Tom Monahan on the front. Her wild hair was in a messy ponytail, her face devoid of makeup. Strapped around one thigh was a knife holder complete with a hunting knife. She held up one hand, fingers closed in a fist.
Neither Linda nor Chris showed signs of having been in the rain. Neither was dirty or appeared to have been roughing it. They both looked clean, well-fed, and enjoying themselves, like cats toying with a mouse.
A light shone in Linda’s eyes, one Emma was bone-chillingly familiar with. With a sly smile, the woman tipped her fist sideways and slowly, one finger at a time, opened it.
Bullets fell to the floor,plunk, plunk, plunk, spinning in all directions as they hit.
Chris smirked at Emma’s shock. “Bad day, Dr. Collins?”
Somehow, Linda, the bitch, had snuck into the bathroom and removed the bullets from Emma’s gun while she’d been in the closet. It was the only explanation.
Linda laughed, a brittle sound that scratched against the thrumming in Emma’s ears. “It’s about to get worse,” she croaked and then she launched herself at Emma.
The swing Emma took with the gun was a lucky one—either that, or her primal survival instincts kicked in and came to her rescue. The gun connected with Linda’s temple, drawing a sharp grunt from the woman as her body weight smacked Emma down hard onto the tile floor.
Emma also grunted, the breath knocked out of her, but she managed to hold tight to the gun. Linda rolled her to the right, banging both of them into the sink. Emma forced them to roll to the left.
Linda smacked her across the face and somehow managed to knee her in the stomach. Pain exploded in both places.
With the pain came a memory. Christmas lights bobbing on a tree as she wrestled with an attacker. The smell of pine in her nose. A carol playing softly in the background as she struggled for her life.
Beyond fear, beyond pain, rose an anger she had long buried. It erupted with a loud growl from her mouth, the sensations rolling through her veins like boiling lava.
Instinct took hold again and Emma raised her hand and brought the metal down on the back of Linda’s head.
And then again.
The woman’s body froze for an instant before she went limp.
With another growl, Emma wrestled the body off of her and came up to her knees, then her feet. She tasted blood and wiped at her lip. The back of her hand came away red.
Chris watched her, more curious than scared, in a wide-legged stance with his arms crossed over his chest. “God, I hate cyborgs. You’re a bitch to kill.”
“Fuck you.” There was one bullet lying just across the threshold, but even if she dove for it, Chris would still have plenty of time to knock her out or kill her before she could get it loaded into the gun.
She could scream her lungs out, but Mitch and the others probably wouldn’t hear her from so far away, and if they did, they still couldn’t get to her in time, could they?
She toyed with the S&W, rubbing a thumb over the stock as she stared Chris down. He didn’t appear to have a weapon. Maybe if she jumped him and started swinging, she could knock him out like she had Linda. He only outweighed her by oh, fifty pounds…
Chris clucked his tongue. He didn’t seem to care that his cohort was down, that federal agents were only a few hundred yards away. “Why do you believe there is only one reality, Dr. Collins? We can create as many realities as we want. Don’t you see? We can be and do anything we want.”
Was this part of his delusions or part of his act? Did he actually believe he was Tom Monahan or was he pretending so he could claim insanity again if he was caught?
Emma honestly wasn’t sure anymore.
“I have to kill you,” Chris continued, “and all the people—and those stupid animals—that you care about.”
