He had no time to wonder how that could be. The pipes roared louder and gravel spat at them as the Trans Am shot past. In the middle of the parking lot it swung into donuts. On the third one it braked.
Scott shouted out his window, “What’s this! Officer Mikey lying down on the job! I’ll have to report you. And you’ve got four flat tires. So now…catch me if you can.”
The passenger, whose voice he recognized as Scott’s buddy Kenny Leeds, shouted, “D-man, he looks hurt! Shouldn’t we — ”
The roar of the Trans Am’s motor drowned the rest as it gunned back out the way it came.
With Scott gone, Garreth saw Lane had, too. No, a shadow hovered near the stock pens by the tracks. Lane called, “You need a head shot to stop me with lead, lover. Come and try again.”
Then she crossed the tracks and disappeared west. Into Pioneer Park? Another good place to ambush him.
He awkwardly holstered the gun, then fingered his radio. He ought to call in. Attacking him provided a legitimate reason for a full manhunt, and for treating her as armed and dangerous. But it put every officer involved at risk. They would never believe how dangerous she was, or that no bullet short of one in her brain could stop her. The very thought sent him back to Wink O’Hare’s apartment watching Harry bleed. He refused to let that happen again. Injured or not, he had to deal with her by himself.
Besides, despite what Lane claimed, vampire healing should kick in soon to stop the pain and bleeding, right? Very soon, he hoped, starting after her. Every step jolted his shoulder and brought a new wave of pain. He forced himself to keep moving.
Garreth tried putting himself in Lane's place, to guess her next place to ambush him. Did the bow have the range to shoot him from the bandstand?
Not the bandstand. Footsteps sounded on his left…moving away. He saw her leap the wall bordering the park’s south edge. Fuzzy light from a streetlight showed her heading down Landon.
She did not intend to ambush him here? Where, then? She must have some plan, but what? Maybe just to keep him following until he collapsed. The way he felt — light-headed, nauseated, shaky as he crawled over the wall after her — that would not be much longer. If he gave up. Not an option. He had to catch her.
“Baumen Seven.”
Garreth groaned. Not now, Doris, please; not now. Tell her he was busy? He tried his voice first, and decided that croak was worse than not answering.
Doris called him again, then after a pause: “Baumen Five. 10–19 ASAP!”
Garreth used speculation to distract himself from his pain. She urgently wanted Duncan at the station. Because he failed to answer? If that, why the request to come to the station rather than sending Duncan to Garreth’s last reported location?
Those questions sustained him to Walnut. Ahead, a streetlight at the Pine intersection shone bright enough in the mist to show Lane there and turning left. He forced himself into a jog. He must not lose her.
Down at Oak, a patrol car raced across the intersection toward Kansas, light bar flashing. Duncan heading out in a hurry…and turning north up Kansas, from the sound of his engine.
He reached Pine to find Lane had disappeared. Had she gone to Kansas? No, he saw nothing of her when he reached there. As much of the street as he could see was deserted…except for the expected vehicles in front of the Brown Bottle and VFW hall. Maybe Lane had taken to an alley. A hand on the wall of the Pioneer Grill helped steady him jogging back to the alley behind it.
The radio spat, “Five to Seven!” Duncan.
If he answered, Duncan would want to know his location.
He saw nothing up the alley, but turning to check the alley across the street…yes! Something moved in the mist beyond the post office. Hunching low, he dodged across the street.
“Seven, respond!”
After flattening against the post office wall, he peered around the corner into the alley. The shape seemed to be hesitating between the post office and Wiesner’s Flowers. Waiting for him to appear…backlit by the Pine streetlights?
“Five, what’s the situation?” Doris asked.
“The car’s where the Leeds kid said. Tires flat. No Seven.”
So Scott, or at least his buddy, did report what they saw?
The pitch of Duncan’s voice climbed. “There’s an arrow with blood on it…and bloody hand prints on the car.”
Garreth slid around the corner into the alley, hugging the building and searching for something to use as a shield. If only trash downtown went into metal cans with lids like those of homeowners, instead of into dumpsters.
“Seven! Respond!” Doris barked. “What’s your status!”
With every area agency hearing this, answering could bring not just Duncan but deputies and who knew else.
“Seven, what’s your twenty!”
A new voice came on…deep, rasping. “He’s in the alley between Pine and Oak.” Lane, disguising her voice. Had to be. But what the hell was she up to?
“Identify yourself,” Doris came back
“I am become Death, destroyer of worlds. Your world at least, Inspector,” Lane called in her normal voice, off the radio, and moved away at an easy jog.
A jog! A pace that let him keep up. She had to be leading him into a trap. Trying to think where and what kind, he followed…keeping close to the post office wall, then staggering hunched past the post office loading dock and employee parking lot into cover of the florist’s dumpster.
Automatically he also noted the roar of pipes coming south on Kansas…passing…slowing for the turn onto 282. Accompanied by another vehicle that sounded like a truck. Idiots, racing tonight just because the street had no traffic!
Not that he was any smarter, he reflected as he edged around the dumpster…following a stone cold killer into an unknown trap with no effective weapon.
A car engine roared behind him and headlights lit him up…swinging as the vehicle fishtailed into the alley. A glance backward caught a flashing light bar. Duncan…who must have floored it all the way down from the Kansas entrance of the sale barn lot.
The patrol car braked just short of hitting Garreth and Duncan jumped out. “Mikaelian, what the hell — ”
Garreth waved him back. “Stop! Get back in the car!”
Duncan ran into the headlight beams. “Jesus, man! You’re covered in blood and — ”
Garreth backed away. “Damn it…get the fuck out of here!”
“I am become Death!” Lane rasped from down the alley. A bowstring thrummed.
Duncan went down, screaming, an arrow through his thigh.
Reflex drove Garreth toward Duncan, pulling off his tie to use as a tourniquet. Only crossing the beam of one headlight did he realize he was making himself a target. Though the distance between him and Duncan had to mean Duncan was the intentional target. Still, he killed the headlight above Duncan by smashing it with his elbow before dropping to his knees beside Duncan.
Whether or not that reduced their visibility, Lane did not shoot again. She just called back in the rasping voice, “See if you can sniff me out. The end is nigh.”
Duncan jerked the tie away from Garreth. “Leave me!” he gasped. “Get that son of a bitch!”
For several seconds Garreth wondered if he could stand again, his legs felt so weak. But the thought of Lane escaping forced him onto his feet and after her.
Behind him and on the radio, Duncan shouted, “Officer down,” and the location.
Crossing Oak into the next alley the meaning of Lane’s words struck Garreth…explaining the game she had been playing and why she shot Duncan. She mean to kill him at the sale barn, but thanks to Scott’s interruption, she changed plans to look for another victim to witness the fact that a psycho was shooting police officers in Baumen. Which signaled the game was over. Her next shot would be for the kill.