Commins' Case: Bloody Burlesque ✅

Chapter 7

I drag the silver-plated revolver from my pocket and check to ensure it is fully loaded, then pull back the hammer. "I'll be right back," I tell Marie.

Her lips compress, but she nods.

"Wait here, but if I die, get out of Roford and don't look back. Go somewhere warm perhaps, but don't stay here." I wink and try a smile, but it feels forced. It most likely looks forced too.

Through the corrugated wall of the warehouse, you can hear Martino and Camillo beating Gabriel, whose grunts have now ceased. A bad sign. I circle round to the front door of the warehouse.

The large door stands wide like the dark mouth of an open tomb. A cold wind, reeking of saltwater and decomposing fish, tugs at my coat. Feeling like an American sheriff, I wade inside. I calm the heart beating against my chest, and my feet feel as though they are firmly bolted to the ground. There is another feeling in the very pit of my stomach. A vivid red fury brightens the night and warms my guts. All the anger and disgust I have for humanity is ready to spill out upon Devon and his two goons.

-

Gabriel is strapped to the wooden chair, his back to me. Martino is standing before him, one hand gripping Gabriel's hair to keep his face up. The other fist is cocked and ready to fly. Camillo is watching his partner and not paying any heed to the door through which I had entered.

I centre my sight on his ear and pull the trigger. A tongue of flame licks from the barrel, the heavy thunderclap bouncing off the metal walls of this warehouse. Camillo's ear disappears in a cloud of red. His knees buckle, and he drops to the floor, his ruined head impacting with the sound of rotten fruit. His brain decorates the floor.

Martino curses. His hand sprints to the small of his back. I retrain my weapon on his chest. His hand reappears with a large calibre semi-automatic. I squeeze the trigger, and a hole opens in the very centre of Martino's chest. At the exact moment of impact, an angry bullet buzzes past my ear. He staggers backwards, looks down at the stain spreading across his shirt and falls with a thud.

The sharp stench of gunpowder hangs in the air. Gabriel struggles to wiggle his chair around until he can see me over his shoulder. "Help me," he gasps. His tongue is thick and sounds as though he is speaking underwater, but he's awake.

-

Devon is still in his office, and I assume he heard the shots. There is no telling what he has with him. I hurry past Gabriel.

"I'll be right back," I say.

I barely have enough time to flatten myself against the wall of the office before the door flings open. Devon comes out waving a massive revolver; his lips pulled back in a snarl. He thumbs back the hammer, searches for his target and finds only Gabriel, still tied to his chair.

I press the muzzle of my gun to Devon's ear. "Drop it."

He eases back the hammer, and his lips close. He lets his gun hit the ground, and I kick it across the floor. It disappears beneath a conveyor belt.

-

"You ought to pull that trigger, friend," says Devon. "Do you have any idea who you're dealing with? You're a dead man."

"Is there no chance we can settle this like gentlemen?" I ask.

"You think this is a joke? I will find you. You cannot run far enough. You may as well put that gun in your mouth and pull the trigger."

"You are quite the aggressive man, Devon. May I suggest doing a bit of cleaning? Or perhaps a lovely bath at the end of a long day. It certainly does me a world of good."

Devon turns to face me. He looks me over and sneers. "You don't have the balls to pull the trigger."

"What makes you so certain?"

For a long moment, we stare at each other, trying to figure out the other's next move. A pair of steel-blue eyes bore into my own. Finally, he lunges.

-

I meet his charge by bringing the butt of my revolver down on his nose. I hear a crunch and feel the bone break as blood gushes out one of his nostrils. He barrels into my stomach, wrapping muscular arms around my waist and takes me to the ground.

In an instant, this ruggedly handsome man is on top, both hands attempting to crush my larynx. If he were not trying to kill me, this would be quite an arousing experience,

I swing my revolver up and smash it into the side of his face. It's enough to dislodge him. I fly to my feet, and a single swift kick against the side of his head cause his eyes to roll up as he slumps to the ground.

-

The legs of the wooden chair scrape and squeal as I hurry Gabriel toward the exit. The wide-open loading bay door and the salty sea air beckon. My heart pumps electricity to my arms and legs. I want to leave this place. It was yet another dead end, and my culprit remains, no doubt cooking up some new devilry as we speak. As the thought crosses my mind, I hear an ominous whisper to my left.

A large yellow cage, padlocked and full of highly explosive tanks, stands against the wall. The shadows in that corner of the warehouse seem to coalesce and shift like creeping black fingers. One of the tanks inside the cage begins to vibrate and jerk as though some unseen force is sending a current through it. I realise that I have only seconds to exit the warehouse before it explodes.

The tank hisses and rattles around inside the sizeable yellow cage like a child pumped full of sugar. It causes one hell of a racket, drowned out only by the sound of my heels drumming on the concrete and the blood pounding in my ears as I race for the exit, dragging Gabriel along in his office chair. Another tank mimics the vibration. And then another. Now the entire cage is dancing, shimmying across the warehouse floor.

I stop for a moment as I take the thin straps on Gabriel's hands between my teeth and tearing them off. With all my might, I hoist him into my arms and out the loading bay door. The concussion hammers my eardrums, and I feel the force of the explosion at my back. The resulting shockwave scoops me off my feet, throwing both Gabriel and I off the dock. Gabriel slips from my arms, and I follow him into the water, impacting the dark waters with a splash and a gurgle. Water rushes around my ears as black envelopes me. My final breath of air escapes through my open mouth, racing towards the surface in the form of silver jellyfish.

-

A bubble flutters by me. When I look down, I spot Gabriel below me, slowly descending into the black void. I push myself to retrieve him and catch hold of his collar.

I drag Gabriel, my lungs screaming for oxygen, my arms and legs heavy as lead, my clothes trying to pull me back down. The surface of the water is lit by the fire, orange light dancing and shimmering overhead. I will myself upward, desperate for air, convinced I would never make it until my head breaks the surface.

I gasp and cough, spitting out seawater in exchange for precious oxygen. It feels as though a stampede has trampled me, but I consider myself lucky. The explosion very easily may have torn Gabriel and I apart.

-

The warehouse is a fiery conflagration. Pieces of burning debris float atop the water. Gabriel seems to be unconscious, so I slap him lightly, and he mumbles and squints his eyes open. He's alive. I paddle to the dock and sling one tired arm up, grasping for something to hold onto. Fingers lock onto my wrist, and Marie is looking down at me. I throw her Gabriel, and she helps him before she helps to haul me back onto dry land.

She runs over and kneels beside Gabriel, tears of joy welling up in her eyes. Gabriel pulls her into a hug. I let them be together for a moment before walking over to them and saying, "It isn't safe here you two. We need to leave."