Blind God's Bluff A Billy Fox Novel - By Richard Lee Byers Page 0,80

six, then straightened up and rushed him, charging down the space between an F-150 and a Civic.

Sylvester heard me coming and pivoted too soon. But A’marie blew a trill on the pipes, and that froze him for the instant I needed. I jumped like I was dunking, ripped the white and gold kerchief from around his neck, and backpedaled, crouching back down as I put space between us.

The eyes behind the coarse, dangling hair opened wide, and then he hunkered down, too. I grinned because it meant I was right.

I’d guessed that he and Epunamlin weren’t wearing identical neckerchiefs because they had the same fashion sense or belonged to the same Scout troop. The scarves were the charms that made them invisible to normal people. And now that Sylvester had lost his, anybody who drove or walked by could see him.

He started after me. I draped the scarf over the point of the letter opener. If I jerked it down hard, the point would pop through.

“I’ll do it!” I said. “The humans will put you in the zoo!”

“Just stay down!” Epunamlin said. “I’ll get him!” He was somewhere behind me, and close enough that I could hear him even without the use of Sylvester’s Bluetooth. As I glanced around, he slithered into view an aisle away, but with a clear line of fire from him to me. He pointed the pistols.

With the Honda on one side of me and the F-150 on the other, I didn’t have a lot of options when it came to dodging for cover. I threw the letter opener and neckerchief into the cargo bed of the truck, then grabbed the sidewall and heaved myself in after them.

I didn’t exactly stick the landing. I thumped down hard. But I didn’t break anything, so I snatched up my stuff again and jumped off the other side.

Then it was back to playing hide and seek, or maybe it was more like tag. Whatever it was, Epunamlin made me feel like I’d lost my touch. He was more careful than Sylvester, and kept checking his six. Twice, I started creeping up behind him, only to have him look around. Then the guns spun toward me, and I dived for cover with not an instant to spare.

I struggled to think of a way to get him. Then I spotted the Coke can some litterbug had tossed on the asphalt.

I picked it up, crouched behind a truck tire, and waited. Sylvester yelled, “What’s going on?” Apparently he was upset enough that he’d forgotten he was wearing the Bluetooth, and I doubted that Epunamlin appreciated having that shout suddenly boom into his head. But he had better sense than to respond to Sylvester to say so, or to say anything and give away his position.

Luckily, when he got really close, the whispering sound of his coils slithering on the pavement was just loud enough for me to hear. I threw the can, and it clanked down a couple aisles away.

Sometimes the oldest, simplest tricks still work the best. When Epunamlin crawled into view, his attention was focused in the direction of the noise. I let him keep moving for another second. That hid the front half of him behind a Kia Sephia, which I didn’t like, but it also put me more or less behind him instead of off to the side.

I rushed him. The twisting S curves of his tail nearly filled the narrow lane between two rows of cars, and I almost tripped over it. But I saw I was about to set my foot wrong and managed to hop over that particular section of rippling, scaly reptile.

Maybe I made noise doing it, because Epunamlin started to twist in my direction. But by then I was within reach of his scarf. I jerked it away, ran on past him, then lurched around. I showed him that I had both neckerchiefs ready to stick on the end of the letter opener, and he aimed the pistols at me anyway. They were vintage Lugers, which only have an eight-round mag. I would have sworn he’d fired more than sixteen shots at A’marie and me, but maybe it had only seemed like it. One bullet seems like a lot when it’s flying at you.

“Don’t do it!” I gasped. “It won’t stop me from tearing the scarves. Maybe you could sneak away. But the big guy? Not a chance.”

Epunamlin stared at me. When I described him before, his headset, scarf, and puppet arms may