The Upside of Death

Zach Makes His Move. Part 11

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Zach woke, blinked and saw daylight. Swore as he struggled upright in his seat. Hadn't intended to sleep. His body had taken over, told him to catch a break while he could. Cars swished past him, people leaving the apartment block. Seven a.m. Shit. A girl raced down the steps, dark clothes, wet hair. After her, a suit with white earphones. Cars nosed up the driveway from the underground garage, paused, then joined the growing stream of traffic.

He strained to check the occupants of each car. No Keera, no three men either, and too many dark interiors to see anything. Had Keera already left? Been moved to a new hiding place? He gripped the steering wheel and prayed please no. He twisted in the seat to look back down the road and saw them.

Two men wearing leather jackets and turning into the strip mall.

He clambered out of his car with stiff legs and walked back to the mall, staying on the opposite side of the road. It had to be them. As he breasted the liquor store the two men exited. The tubby long-haired one took bouncy steps, a brutish bald one strode alongside, his face as hard and blunt as a hammer.

Zach tensed and palmed his hand over the cutter in his back pocket. They entered the diner and he retraced his steps to his car. Five minutes later the men strolled back, the bald one with the bag from the liquor store, the other one chewing a donut and holding a takeout bag. As they neared the apartments, Zach slipped across the road and fell into step behind them, staying ten yards back, the wrench in hand. The bald one glanced back at him but didn't react.

Zach followed them into the lobby and waited behind them for the elevator. Baldy grunted something to the other guy. The concierge's desk wasn't manned. The elevator sat on the third floor and wasn't moving. His gut coiled tighter with every second. All three stared at the floor indicator lights. The doors swung apart and a young woman gave them a startled look, scurried past. Longhair stepped inside and pressed a floor button. Baldy followed and turned around. As Zach entered Baldy dropped his bag and lunged, his arms coming and up and around to grab him.

Zach instinctively ducked, twisted and scrabbled backwards, his normal reaction to a tackle. The huge hands didn't get a grip and now the big guy bunched a fist for a smashing blow. Zach crashed out of the elevator, colliding with the closing doors and forcing them open again. Swung the wrench. The four-pound force bounced across the Russian's nose, producing an immediate gush of blood. "Nyaargh," he bellowed and staggered backward. Longhair's hand dived inside his jacket. Had to be grabbing a gun.

Zach's left hand slammed into a fat stomach and the man doubled over. Baldy tried to move around his partner for another blow but Zach threw the wrench and cutter. The big guy deflected the wrench but the cutter smashed into his knuckles and he roared in pain and anger. Zach bolted for the stairs. He'd caught a glimpse of the floor buttons in the few seconds of the fight and only one was lit up.

The fourth floor.

He threw open the fire door and bounded up the stairs two at a time. He might not beat the elevator there but would only be a few seconds behind. He might, just might spot a door closing. If not, he had them holed up on that floor. Long enough to get police help. This time they would respond to an assault, especially if the perps were trapped.

Below, the fire door clanged shut. Baldy was coming after him. Blood streaks down one side of his face, vengeance written over the rest of it.

Zach accelerated, legs pumping like crazed pistons, leaping over steps a yard at a time. At the third floor Baldy hadn't fallen behind, the guy had the endurance of an athlete and Zach realized his own fitness assumptions were dangerously wrong. He was blowing hard, each suck of air searing his lungs.