The Adjusters (30 page)

Henry’s mouth fell open. He hadn’t noticed who it was at first because the trooper’s expression in the photo was friendly and open. He was grinning broadly at whoever was
taking the photo. Henry turned his attention to the other pictures on the table. He narrowed his eyes to pick out the details in the gloom. There were more of the older couple. A graduation
photograph from a police academy.

Dropping the photo on the bed, Henry was certain of one thing:
they were standing in Trooper Dan’s house
.

And they had to get the hell out. Fast.

Headlights and the sound of a vehicle moving outside made him cross to the window and look out.

The familiar police cruiser had pulled up out front, sending a cloud of dust into the air. The car door swung open and Trooper Dan stepped out. He reached back into the vehicle, produced a
pump-action shotgun, and then walked towards the porch.

Henry felt his way across the attic room as swiftly as he could without making a racket on the floorboards. As he reached the top of the narrow stairs he heard the front door
bang open. Trooper Dan’s boots clumped into the hallway, making no effort to disguise his presence. Henry listened for a moment. He couldn’t see, but he sensed the cop standing in the
hall, listening to the silence of the darkened building. Clearly, the men in the helicopter had seen them run into his house and alerted the trooper. And now here he was.

There was a loud, metallic rasp – the sound of a round being jacked into the chamber of the pump-action shotgun; Henry recognized it from a million cop shows.

“Yoo-hoo!” Trooper Dan yelled into the house. “I just came to let you kids know, y’all picked a real bad place to hide.”

Henry closed his eyes as he heard the man begin to walk across the hall, no doubt towards the lounge and then the kitchen… Where Fox would be hiding…

Before he really knew what he was doing, he brought his foot down heavily on the nearest stair. A loud creak echoed through the house. Below, the sound of the cop moving stopped.

“I can hear you, you dumb little punks!” Trooper Dan called up. “Don’t make me come up there. Or it’ll be worse for you!”

Henry stood still for a moment, waiting for the cop’s next move. When he was greeted only with silence from below, he realized that the trooper was waiting for him to act. He licked his
lips, which were incredibly dry. Suddenly, he remembered something he’d seen in one of the bedrooms on the second floor – an open fireplace…and beside it a metal poker. His best
chance of a weapon against the man. And at least it would give Fox the opportunity to make a break for it…

“Come and get me!” Henry yelled, bolting down the stairs to the second floor. Even as he reached the landing the sound of Trooper Dan thundering up the main staircase made the walls
shake. Henry didn’t look round. He hit the half-closed door of the nearest bedroom and ran towards the fireplace, snatching up the poker and throwing himself down beside the bed…

Trooper Dan jumped into the doorway and froze there, the shotgun trained on the room. There was no emotion in his eyes, but he was breathing heavily, excited.

“I know you’re in here,” he hissed.

Hidden by the bed, Henry held his breath and gripped the poker tightly in his hands. He knew he would get just one chance against his enemy. He had to wait for the man to step into the room.

“You should have given up when you had the chance,” Trooper Dan said, walking into the room. “Now it’s gonna have to hurt…”

Henry expected the cop to check the bed first, but was surprised when he headed for the other side of the room. He looked around and, seeing a cupboard standing ajar, realized the trooper
thought that was where he was hiding. He’d been given a chance. All he had to do was wait…

Trooper Dan passed the bed, shotgun aimed at the cupboard as he approached.

“I’m gonna count to five,” he said. “One…two…”

Henry tensed, ready to spring as the cop took another step past him.

“Three…”

He gripped the poker as tight as he could and focused on the back of Trooper Dan’s neck.

“Four…”

Henry leaped from his hiding place, raising his weapon above his head as he flew at the cop…

Who spun round lightning fast, bringing the muzzle of the shotgun up. Henry skidded to a halt on the carpet, the poker going limp in his hands.

“Five!” Trooper Dan said with a grin. “You think I’m stupid, son?”

Henry allowed the poker to drop from his fingers. It landed heavily on the carpet and he started to back away towards the bedroom door. Trooper Dan followed him, keeping the shotgun aimed at his
head.

“Please,” Henry said, hoping desperately that Fox had used her chance to get away, “I haven’t done anything wrong.”

“
Haven’t done anything wrong?
” Trooper Dan said. “You’ve broken into my house, boy. I’ve got every right to shoot you.”

Henry backed through the door and out onto the landing.

“I didn’t know…”

“
I didn’t know
,” the man mimicked. “Well, I’ll tell you what
I
know. You’ve got about ten seconds to live. Say your prayers. If you do pray,
that is, city boy.”

Henry’s back touched the bannister. There was nowhere else to go.

“I knew you were trouble from the first moment I laid eyes on you,” Trooper Dan said as his finger tightened around the trigger.

Henry grabbed the bannister and pitched himself backwards. He fell a short distance…then hit the stairs on his side. The thick carpet cushioned his fall, but the pain was intense along
his arm. With a cry, Henry began to tumble uncontrollably, coming to a rest on the floor of the entrance hall. He struggled to get up, but his leg buckled underneath him – he’d twisted
it in the fall.

Thud!

Trooper Dan leaped over the bannister and landed perfectly on the stairs before him. Henry rolled over onto his back and began to push himself away in desperation.

“Hoo-eee, boy!” Trooper Dan said with a whistle. “That was some acrobatic move! I didn’t think you had it in you!”

Henry managed to get to his feet and started staggering back towards the front door, which was standing open, shafts of moonlight brightening the porch.

“Come on, son,” Trooper Dan said, making his voice sound reasonable, friendly almost. “You didn’t think I was really gonna shoot now, did you?” He laid the shotgun
down on the hall table as if to prove his point. “I ain’t gonna do that. It wouldn’t be fair. But I am gonna beat you to death…”

He moved forward and aimed a kick at Henry’s stomach that connected with the force of a locomotive. Henry flew backwards, through the open door, across the porch and onto the dusty ground
at the front of the house. He clutched at his gut and gasped, trying to suck air into his lungs as pain exploded through his diaphragm.

Taking his time, Trooper Dan strolled across the porch, pulling on his leather gloves a little tighter and flexing his fingers. As the cop got close, Henry grabbed a handful of dirt and threw it
at his face.

“That ain’t nice,” Trooper Dan said, dodging to one side and then reaching down to take Henry by the shirt front with his left hand. He hauled him to his feet and drew back his
right fist.

“No!”

Trooper Dan’s fist stopped in mid-flight as Fox’s voice rang out from the porch.

“Let him go right now or I’ll put a bullet in your head!”

With a surprised look, Trooper Dan released his grip on Henry’s shirt, allowing him to fall back to the ground. They both turned to where Fox was standing… On the edge of the
porch… The shotgun in her hands…

“Hey!” the cop said. “That’s my gun!”

“Back off!” Fox ordered, taking a step towards him across the porch.

“You’re gonna put a bullet in my head?” Trooper Dan said. He tapped a gloved finger on the centre of his forehead. “Right here?”

“Yes!” Fox said, clearly struggling to stop the shotgun from trembling in her grasp. “Put your hands up and stay back!”

Trooper Dan slowly raised his arms. “It’s okay, missy. I ain’t gonna do nothin’ stupid.”

“Take out your gun and toss it over here,” Fox ordered.

Trooper Dan began to reach towards the revolver sitting on his hip.

“Slowly!”

“Take it easy,” Trooper Dan said as he picked the Magnum from his belt with his thumb and forefinger.

“Toss it over here.”

The cop threw the weapon so it landed on the porch steps between them. “There you go,” he said. “I ain’t armed no more. Now what?”

Fox licked her lips and shifted the gun in her grasp. “Henry, are you okay?”

Henry moved to the side and caught Fox’s eye. He could see she was terrified. “Just run,” he said.

Trooper Dan grinned and started moving forward again. “Are you gonna run, girl? Ever fired a weapon before? You know you’ve got to squeeze the trigger, right? Squeeze it real
slow…”

“I know how to fire a gun!” Fox said, her voice high and strained. Beads of sweat stood out on her forehead. “Stop moving!”

Trooper Dan sniggered. “Just give that shotgun here and we’ll forget all about it, what do you say?” He lowered his left hand and reached out for the weapon.

“No deal,” Fox said with determination. She waved the end of the shotgun at him.

The cop stopped moving and lowered his hands slowly. His voice hardened. “Now, let’s not do anything stupid.”

“Fox, get the hell out of here!” Henry said, struggling into a crouch. He could barely stand on his left leg.

“Shut your mouth, boy!” Trooper Dan snapped, not taking his eyes from the shotgun barrel. “Nobody’s goin’ nowhere until I get my gun back. Now, you hand it over and
there’s no hard feelings…” His right hand began to creep round towards the back of his belt… “I’ll just take you both back to Newton and we can have a good
talk about everything that’s happened…”

The shotgun wavered in Fox’s hands, as if the effort of holding it up had become almost too much to bear.

The trooper reached out towards Fox with his left hand. Henry looked to the cop’s back and saw the fingers of his right hand closing around the handle of a knife concealed in his
belt…

“Fox, watch out!” he yelled.

Trooper Dan whipped the knife round in a smooth, well-practised motion. Fox squeezed the trigger…

The sound of the shotgun was deafening.

Trooper Dan’s left hand exploded as the shell ripped through his open palm.

The recoil from the blast threw Fox back against the side of the house as if she was the one who had been hit.

Henry staggered back in shock as a fine red liquid like the lightest of rain fell through the air across his face. Before him, Trooper Dan sank to his knees, clutching his left wrist with his
right hand. A terrible, siren-like howl broke the silence of the night air. It took Henry a second to realize that it was the sound of the cop screaming in agony. He looked to where the man stood,
holding his left arm. Nothing remained of the fingers of his left hand. Only the lower part of his palm and the thumb remained. Still stunned, Henry looked around on the blood-splattered dirt,
expecting to see the cop’s severed digits lying around, but they were nowhere to be seen. Perhaps they’d been completely destroyed by the force of the shotgun shell.

“
Oh, Jesus,
” Trooper Dan whispered. His hat had fallen off his head and was lying to one side in the dirt. Henry noticed that the pupils of his eyes were huge and black and
locked on his damaged hand. “
Sweet, holy Jesus.
”

Henry stumbled to the porch, giving the kneeling cop a wide berth and noticing that the knife had embedded itself in one of the wooden posts circling the house. Fox was sitting
on the floor with her back against the wall, staring at Trooper Dan with a shocked expression. The shotgun lay to one side.

“Are you okay?” Henry asked, crouching down beside her.

Fox gave no response. She was either too shocked or stunned to respond.

“Hey!” Henry said, shaking her shoulder roughly.

She snapped out of it, looking round at him. Reaching into her pocket, she produced two sets of car keys. “I found these.”

“Great,” Henry said, looping his arm under hers and lifting her up. “We’re getting out of here.”