Twice Bitten, Once Shy: Confessions of a Fake Psychic Detective #5

Chapter 27

Up Like Stairs, Down like an Elevator

The window shatters as the bullet bolts through the glass, throwing the trajectory of the projectile off just enough to miss Zandra's head. A wisp of her hair floats to the floor. The rest of Zandra drops to the floor with a thud.

Rev. Cash cries out and covers his face with his hands before joining Zandra on the floor.

"Fucking Glenn," Zandra says and rubs the hurt out of her bad ankle. The trip to the floor cost her.

He sees the Curd Queen is sinking, so he opens up on me? Asshole move. He ought to let me drown. It's more respectable than getting picked off by an emotional mercenary.

Wait a minute. If he can see me through the window, didn't he also see Aaron? And Aaron dying for the second time? More importantly, does any of that matter?

"Glenn?" Rev. Cash says.

"Shut up," is all Zandra can think to say in the moment, but what she really means is to stay on the floor. "Get to the lower level."

Rev. Cash starts to stand. Zandra slaps his leg and says, "Not like that."

Rev. Cash gets the message and belly crawls to the stairs. Zandra tries to follow behind, but Army drills aren't in her joints' wheelhouse.

"Little hand, captain?" Zandra says, cranking her neck toward the bar in the lounge. "Captain?"

He's gone. Did Glenn shoot him?

Captain Mel shouts from behind the bar, where he's crouched down. "I'm here. Are you hurt?"

Oh, so now he's trying to play the good guy? He's trying to redeem himself after fucking everyone for the benefit of his own personal whatever.

Zandra rubs her ankle and eyes the distance to the stairs leading to the lower level.

Well, isn't this a coincidence that he and I should be in the exact same situation?

"I know where he is," Captain Mel says. "I'll shoot to keep his head down. Covering fire, you know what that means? You move when I shoot."

You may not want to get on Glenn's bad list, but don't let me stop you.

"Covering fire. Yeah, got it," Zandra says as the Curd Queen lists another degree to its portside.

From behind the bar, Captain Mel grabs the feet of a barstool. He hurls it toward the nearest window. The glass cracks, and then cracks again, before shards fall like fists. Captain Mel rushes to the cracked window in a crouch. Keeping his head down, he pokes the Bobcat's barrel into the hole and fires twice at the shore.

Move.

Zandra scrambles to the stairs. She nearly rolls down to the lower level, bracing herself with a handrail. She knows the intentional leak in the Curd Queen is bad the moment she steps onto the carpeted hallway.

It's soggy.

She hears Rev. Cash knocking on doors and shouting in the distance. Cries of panic rattle the walls as the attendees get packed inside their rooms.

"Forget your suitcases. Get a life jacket and get off this boat right now," Zandra hears Rev. Cash yell. His voice carries with all his practice at the pulpit.

No. Stop telling them that. They need the suitcases.

Zandra pounds on the first door she comes across, but she's too out of breath to get noticed. She leans against the hallway walls for balance as she follows the sound of Rev. Cash's bellowing voice. A set of overhead hallway lights flicker for the last time. Zandra turns a corner. Her bad ankle makes a splash in a puddle.