Cowboy Ending - Overdrive: Book One (52 page)

My ribs and
head were still aching, but it was someone else’s pain. The buzzing
and lightning in my system was taking precedence. Filling me with
energy and clarity.

I was on my
knees in the middle of the dance floor. I don’t know how I got
there. Fire was still raging within the club and smoke was
billowing madly. Distant sirens began to multiply in number. The
faint sound of people scrambling and shouting was muffled, but also
becoming louder. The crowd outside. Cops. Fire department.

Miller.

My gaze swung
back to the remains of the deejay booth. What I saw would haunt my
nightmares forever.

Miller‘s body
lay face up in the booth, twitching and smoking as sparks and
currents burst around him. He was half buried in the paneling. What
was left of his previously burnt face was now charred black. White
smoke sizzled up from the cuffs of his shirt, out through his
collar and up to mingle with the black cloud above.

And he smelled
like bacon. Over cooked, fatty bacon.

Yuck.

I lurched to my
feet unsteadily. Energy still flooded my pain wracked body but
already it was beginning to fade, leeching out my pores. Whatever
charge I had earned apparently wasn’t mine to keep. So whatever I
still needed to do I couldn’t dick around.

As I turned
around to get my bearings my feet kicked at something soft. I
looked down.

It was that
damned felt hat, now showing scorch marks from the heat.

Son of a
bitch.

I scooped up
the hat and jammed it on my head as I staggered out to the main
hallway.

The entrance
was impossible to see clearly. Black smoke billowed out the doorway
in a constant stream, heat following the flow of air racing away. I
could make out the occasional flicker of a police light through the
gloom if I looked closely enough.

Truth to tell,
I wasn’t ready to leave.

I turned my
gaze to the marble staircase.

At the top of
the stairs I noticed a few odd things. First, it was surprisingly
cool and smoke free up there. Since the fire had begun in earnest
the damned old converted bank had been hot as an oven, trapping all
of the heat within its stone walls. Weird.

Second, the
mini hidden camera that I’d discovered in the doorframe was no
longer there. Not covered up or burst in a million pieces like the
other electrical devices that had been destroyed in my initial
rampage. Just simply gone.

Someone had
intentionally removed it.

Again.
Weird.

But not
important at the moment.

I stepped
through the doorway.

Honestly, I had
been expecting more.

Course it had
probably looked a lot nicer before the building caught fire.

Thick plush
carpeting. Wide expansive hallways lined with oaken trim along the
base and ceiling of the stone walls. Lovely wood furniture and
settings. A few side hallways leading to more private entertaining
rooms. Lots of lovely mirrors in huge oversized frames. A mini
kitchen and wet bar in one room.

Yeah, still
real nice. Just not as blow away nice as I’d imagined.

But the main
party area made up for the rest. Paintings and wide lounging
couches. Lots of places to relax. A giant, wall mounted
entertainment unit complete with an Xbox and a sixty inch flat
screen. Little settees where bottles of wine or champagne could sit
in chilling racks in between service times.

This is where
the party would’ve happened. At least when the room wasn’t on fire
and with a big hole in the back wall.

What had once
been a floor to ceiling length window was now black char, staining
the stone a good three feet into the room. The carpet and curtains
there were smoldering despite the torrential rains pouring into the
gap. This is where the smoke was escaping, pouring out into the
cool night through this gaping opening.

Parise was on
his phone screaming at someone while facing into the night, a
revolver in his left hand. Wind billowed at his suit coat and his
words were lost to me.

Aaron lay back
on one of the loungers, his head lolled back with eyes staring up
into space. As I got closer I saw the gunshot wounds in his chest
and the blood pooling down at the base of the couch.

Shit.

I stalked
closer to Parise, shouting his name into the wind.

He turned then,
seeing me for the first time. His face twisted at first with rage
and then with sorrow. Parise slowly lowered the phone from his ear,
his lips moving soundlessly from this distance. I have no idea if
he was talking to me or to himself.

I continued to
advance warily, my eyes never leaving his gun hand. The charge
buzzing at the back of my neck was faint now but I had a firm grip
on it, ready to fly into full throttle at the slightest twitch of
Parise’s trigger finger.

Turns out I
didn’t need it.

Parise glanced
up to meet my eyes. Defeated. His cell phone and revolver dropped
to the ground and he raised his hands up, lacing his fingers behind
his head.

I blinked in
shock.

In no scenario
that ran through my head did I picture Parise surrendering.

Shit.

Now what the
fuck do I do?

Blood spurted
forward and sprayed me in the face. Something hot and frantic
buzzed by my ear, nearly knocking my hat off my fool head.

The expression
on Parise’s face was stunned. He had enough time to glance down at
the huge exit wound that had blossomed in his chest before his
knees buckled under him and he collapsed to the plush, burning
carpet.

I stared at his
body for a brief moment, completely shocked. My nervous system once
again flushed with frantic energy. I grabbed my hat off my head and
swiped at my ear, marveling at the fresh blood there.

“What the fuck
…”

Instinct sent
me hurtling aside and out of the line of fire. At least one more
bullet blasted through the massive opening but I didn’t bother
looking back. I merely leapt into motion off to one side.

Wood shattered
off its hinges as I bulldozed my way through a side door from the
party room. I landed awkwardly on the floor again. The rush of
energy evaporated after that sudden overuse leaving behind a
growing fatigue, dozens of body aches and the familiar gnawing
hunger.

My head
spun.

So much had
happened and I was so damned tired. This splintered door propped
against the wall of this plush sleeping room seemed like a good
place to nap didn’t it? The cops were just outside. The fire
department was on their way in. Everyone that needed to be safe was
safe, or at least close enough right?

Somebody
coughed off to my left.

I turned my
head wearily.

A young woman
lay on the double bed against the wall. She was still kinda dressed
in a fancy party outfit, minus most of her top and only one high
heeled shoe. Her blonde hair was a disaster from having passed out
while still loaded with hairspray and other products. Her nose was
bloody, though it didn’t look like she’d been hit. Probably just
too much partying and nose candy.

Her coughing
got stronger as smoke filled her barely conscious lungs. Her eyes
were only half open. Pupils dilated.

High as a
kite.

And
helpless.

Shit.

I sighed and
pushed myself back to my feet, slapping my hat back on my aching
head.

This hundred
pound girl felt like iron in my arms as I carried her out of the
room and down the marble staircase. Her weight actually taking me a
bit off balance as I stumbled along.

The smoke was
beyond thick now. It watered my eyes and made it damned near
impossible to get a decent breath. Stepping onto the staircase was
like walking into a blast furnace, simultaneously breaking my body
into a sweat and then feeling it evaporate away. A scary
combination of too hot and too chilly at the same time.

I kept my chin
tucked to my chest and stumbled down those fifty steps as quickly
as I dared, my legs trembling as we neared the bottom. The girl in
my arms had stopped coughing which I figured was a bad sign. Once I
made it to the floor I ignored the unsteadiness in my feet and
picked up the pace, trotting as fast as possible to the smoke
funneled front entrance.

Nothing was
easy to see. But noises. So many noises.

“Stop right
there!”

“Ma’am you have
to stop screaming.”

“Who authorized
that shot? I demand to know …”

“What the hell
is going on?”

“Look over
there!”

Sirens. People
wailing. Rain hammering the street in a steady drone. Thunder
booming.

Rain splashed
haphazardly off the brim of my hat, cooling my steaming flesh and
dampening my shirt. People approached me as my eyes began to clear,
two firemen in full regalia with face shields and breathing
apparatus. They took one look up the stairs at me and froze,
clearly not expecting my presence.

I coughed
weakly, motioning the girl to them. My arms were burning with
fatigue.

One of the
firemen stepped forward and took the girl from my arms as the other
stepped up and took me by the arm, starting to pull me forward.

That’s when my
brain cleared and registered the things my eyes had been trying to
tell me.

Cameras.
Lights.

Just behind the
police tape line and the wall of officers were reporters and camera
crews. One from each TV station. A few from local radio and
photographers from both local newspapers.

Bulbs flashed
and more noise exploded as I was drawn out of the smoke into the
clear air.

I panicked.

Despite
the fatigue and agony I spun on the balls of my feet, breaking the
heavily gloved fireman’s grip and bolted back into the smoke and
fire billowing out of
Cowboy Shotz.
The only direction I had to get away from the crowds and
attention. People cried out behind me, the sound quickly lost to my
ears as I passed back through the entranceway.

Gotta get
away.

The building
wasn’t in good shape. Support beams over a hundred years old were
now on fire and threatening to cave in on themselves. I brought the
neck of my tee shirt up over my mouth and nose, blinked frantically
to try and get some moisture to my painfully dry eyes as I trundled
into the main bar area. The brief dampness from the rain already
evaporating in the heat.

The fucking
ceiling was on fire.

All of the
liquor stores behind the service bar were either in flames or about
to burst from heat induced pressure. The inferno blurred my vision
again. My mind whirled as I spun in place.

Where?

I saw Mackie’s
body near the main bar in the same position I’d left it in, slowly
becoming engulfed in flames. Never to hurt his family or another
woman again.

I saw the
charred remains of Miller’s body still jammed into the deejay booth
but no longer twitching. Fire had completely consumed that area and
would soon devour him whole.

Forgive me,
Mom. I almost made it.

Frantic.

You’d better
treat Cathy right, Captain Max. She deserves the best.

Panicked.

God, why
didn’t I ask Tamara out when I had the …

A memory
flashed.

That night at
the club. Tamara and her friends. They were going to be late. Asked
if I could put them on the list.

The one
we kept at
the VIP Door!

My feet knew
the way even if my eyes couldn’t see it. Down the back hallway,
past the remains of the sound booth and behind the main stage. I
screamed while running through patches of fire burning their way
through everything. Through the miniature loading area to the wide
double doors leading to the back alley. The spot where deliveries
arrived and people were charged twenty bucks a head to beat the
line at the front door if they weren’t on the list.

My body howled
at me as I threw my agonized left shoulder against the heavy steel
door, slamming it open into the stormy night. I collapsed to the
alleyway, letting the icy rain wash over me. I was immediately
soaked to the skin as heat and smoke billowed out the door behind
me. Agonizingly refreshing, ice cold rain water pelted me flat to
the concrete as lightning flashed in the sky.

I took a deep
gasping breath. Then another.

On the third
the sounds of people and the crowds at the front of the building
came to my attention as the thunder faded overhead.

I pushed myself
up off the wet pavement, jammed my sodden felt hat down tight onto
my head and staggered away down the alley.