Midnight Hero - By Diana Duncan Page 0,21

What to do? Please, God, what should I do?

The answer flashed by in a blurry rainbow. One desperate chance. Stiff with fear, she lurched to a stop. Whirled. Hitched the bat over her shoulder and swung with all her might. Not at her pursuer—at the gumball machines lined up in colorful rows outside Toys Galore. Metal support poles clanged. Her hands stung. Glass shattered, smashed to the floor. Large, colorful jawbreakers exploded in every direction, bouncing across the faux marble.

Her pursuer treadmilled on the rolling projectiles. His feet flew out from beneath him. He grunted, swore and flopped down with a resounding crash as his skull banged against the floor.

He didn’t move.

Holding her breath, she edged toward him.

“Stay back,” Con shouted. Skidding on jawbreakers, he managed to keep his footing and slid to a halt. He went to his knees beside the fallen guard and dropped his bat. “Hells bells, slugger. I said kneecap him.”

Her vocal cords didn’t seem to want to work, and her lips were numb. “Is h-he d-dead? D-did I k-kill him?”

He shot a grin at her. “Nah. He’s out cold.” He sobered. “Unfortunately, we don’t know if this commotion carried to the other end of the mall. We might be having company shortly.”

“I’m s-sorry.”

“We’ll handle it.” He patted the man down and tugged a two-way radio from beneath him, a smashed jumble of plastic and wires. “Well, that’s useless. Bluto must have landed on it.” He continued the search. “No gun. Obviously, they wanted him to look like Syrone to passersby. They weren’t expecting trouble.” He shook his head and swore softly. “No key card for the door, either. Probably planned on leaving with his buddies.”

“I c-couldn’t hit him. I j-just couldn’t.”

“You took him out, that’s the most important thing. You did good.” He rose and embraced her in a quick, hard, comforting hug. “Get it together. There’s no time to fall apart.”

She nodded. Sucked in a steadying breath. “What should I do?”

“Leaving an unarmed man at the door…these guys are arrogant, sure of success. We can turn it back on them.” He strode toward the toy store. Like many of the other stores, the security cage hadn’t descended because of the power failure. “Hang on.”

He disappeared, and she glanced down the mall. They were a long way from the bank. Had the robbers heard the noise? Would she and Con soon have to face loaded Uzis? Anxiety gnawed her insides. Because she couldn’t bring herself to injure a fellow human being, she might have put them in jeopardy. Traded their welfare for a criminal’s. Endangering herself was one thing, but putting Con’s life at risk…inexcusable.

She looked at the unconscious man. Confusion and slivers of hot shame splintered inside her. She felt horrible about knocking him out. Shaky, sweaty and like she might upchuck any second. Yet part of her regretted not following Con’s orders and doing the deed quietly. Thus hurting the guy worse.

Had she just done the wrong thing, for all the right reasons?

How was a person supposed to know? How did Con deal with the moral dilemma? He disabled bad guys every day without his conscience making him queasy.

Con reappeared with jump ropes and bandanas in neon colors. “The landline phone is dead.” He shrugged. “No surprise. The robbers would have been stupid not to pop the phone lines along with all the other mall systems.” His calm, matter-of-fact demeanor eased her ragged nerves a fraction. No matter what happened, no matter how badly she crumbled, he’d be there to pull her out of the pit. “Tie his ankles. Take his boots off, first. If by some strange phenomenon he escapes, stockinged feet will slow him down. I’ll tie his hands and gag him.”

When the man was secure, Con hefted him over his shoulder. “Oof. This sucker eats his Wheaties.”

“What are you going to do with him?”

“Make him feel at home in a nice, quiet stall in the ladies’ room. Go hide in the toy store until I’m done.”

“Actually, I kind of need to…um…when I get nervous…”

He chuckled. “Come with, then. Let’s roll. We need to move.”

She accomplished her business while Con dealt with their nemesis in the large handicapped stall at the end of the room. He must have locked the stall from the inside, because his head appeared over the top of the partition, and then he jumped down.

Con eased the restroom door open. “No sign of company. We might have lucked out.” Outside, he used a tool on his Swiss

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