say in it.”
Toby walked up to Fran and pushed the muzzle of the pistol against the tip of her nose. “Go get the knife.”
“Okay.”
He lowered the weapon and moved aside. Fran wiped her eyes, then stepped past him. He watched the fat, dimpled cheeks of her buttocks wobble and shake as she walked toward Brenda.
“Now that’s a lard-ass,” he said.
She glanced back at him, a pouty look on her face. Then she stopped in front of Brenda’s feet. She held out her hand. “Just give it to me.”
“I don’t have it.”
“Yes, you do. I know you do.”
“Where’d you say it is?” Toby asked.
“Under her back.”
“Well, reach under and grab it.”
She started to squat.
“You’re blocking my view.”
“Sorry.” She straightened up and stepped around to Brenda’s other side. “Here?” she asked Toby.
“Perfect.”
She knelt down close to Brenda’s hip. Resting her hands on her own thighs, she frowned and said, “Roll over.”
Brenda latched her eyes on Fran. A corner of her mouth twitched slightly, but she didn’t roll over. “Don’t think so,” she said.
“Please.”
“I would’ve had him, Fran. I would’ve had him. But you had to open your big mouth.”
“He was gonna shoot me.”
“You didn’t have to tell him about the knife. It was our only chance.”
“Not much of a chance,” Toby said. “Knife versus gun? I don’t think so.”
Brenda looked at him. “You feel that way, just let me keep it.”
“Take it, Fran.”
“Roll over,” Fran said.
“Make me.”
Fran jutted out her trembling chin. “You better not try something.”
“Do it!” Toby snapped.
“I’ll just reach under,” Fran explained. She placed her left hand on Brenda’s hip, then bent lower and started to shove her right hand into the crevice between Brenda’s back and the floor.
Brenda sat up fast.
Her elbow smashed against Fran’s face.
“YES!” Toby cried out.
Fran tumbled backward off her knees, blood rushing from her crushed nose. Her naked back slapped the floor, followed a moment later by the thonk of her head. Followed by the quick toot of a fart.
Toby laughed.
Brenda, twisting her torso, let fly with the knife.
It flipped end over end toward Toby.
He took quick aim. Just as the knife struck him in the forehead, he fired.
Chapter Sixty
The noise of the gunshot blasted Brenda’s ears and she felt a strange, quick stir in the air by her cheek. Even as she realized the bullet must’ve missed her, Jack’s head jerked backward from the impact of the knife.
It had struck him, handle first, in the middle of the forehead, then bounced off.
He still held out the pistol as if he hoped to fire again, but now it seemed to be pointing way too high and he was taking a wobbly step away.
He took just the one step. Then he fell backward onto the carpeted hallway. Brenda felt the floor shake. His head bounced. The pistol hopped out of his hand and scooted over the carpet, stopping almost a yard beyond his curled fingers.
She had lost track of the knife after it caromed off his brow.
She looked around quickly for it, but couldn’t see it.
Maybe it had fallen out of sight behind one of the bodies.
Better to have the gun, anyway, she thought.
Get it and I’ll be fine.
She would need to make her way past Jack, but he seemed to be out cold.
How long’s that gonna last? she wondered.
The sound of a groan sent a gust of fear through her belly, but then she realized it had come from Fran, not Jack.
The girl was sprawled on her back, her knees in the air, both hands holding her face.
God, I did that to her.
It made Brenda feel sick.
Why didn’t I just push her away? I didn’t have to hurt her.
Worry about it later, Brenda told herself. She went against me and I had to hurt her and now she’s useless and I have to get the gun before Jack wakes up.
Brenda clenched her teeth, put her weight on her straight left arm, turned her body and rose onto her left knee. Shuddering and sweating, she held herself up with both hands on the cool marble floor.
This doesn’t feel too good, she thought.
The pain from her gunshot right leg seemed to be everywhere.
Screw it, she thought. Screw the pain. Get the gun and worry about it later.
Letting her wounded leg slide along behind her, she crawled toward Jack on her hands and one knee.
He seemed very far away.
This is so awfully jolly.
It didn’t seem that it should be so difficult to crawl a few yards on one knee. She wondered if she should try to stand