Her father was busy chatting and laughing with the bellhop. The others joined in. Jay did too but knew neither what she was laughing at nor why. She had nothing to laugh about, except when her dad finally waved them all towards the entrance. One more night and they would be out of here; she couldn’t wait to leave. There’s no place like home, she told herself.
Yet it looked like she would never make it there alive.
She saw the man come out from behind a sign on the grounds and start towards them.
He looked different, the trickster, the Wizard, but it was him. His face wore the same malicious anger as it had that time he’d visited agony on her in the barn, and then again as he stared down at her before entombing her under the tin sheets in the desert. How she wished that she’d had the fortitude to shoot the monster that time she’d broken up his fight with Joe in the ravine.
She could barely tear her gaze away as he advanced on her, and it was like time had slowed so that she watched him as if he was wading through treacle. Jay could hear the panic swelling in her breast, but as yet it had not voiced itself in a scream. Her family and friends were unaware of the monster’s approach. She tore free from the hold his appearance had on her, lunging to place herself between him and the others. He was coming for Nicole, she realised. He would not get her: not if Jay stopped him. But she was afraid.
She screamed.
Chaos erupted around her, the screams of her and Nicole’s mothers, the throatier voices of her dad and Herb, lifting in panic as they recognised the danger.
Jay felt hands tugging on her clothing. In her frenzy she misunderstood and pulled free of her father’s protective arms. She looked around wildly, from Nicole, to her father, back to Samuel Logan. He was so close now she could smell a wave of something sickly sweet with an undertone of rot wafting off him. There was white powder all around his nostrils and on the front of his suit jacket. His mouth was wide in a shout she couldn’t hear as he brought up a gun and aimed it directly at her.
Oh my God, he’s going to shoot me!
Her eyelids began to droop. She was back in the rear of Officer Lewin’s police cruiser again and this time there was nothing she could do to stop the bullet shattering her skull.
There was a blur of movement and someone was between them. In reflex her lids bolted open. For a briefest moment she expected to see Nicole leaping at Samuel, her teeth bared, her nails poised to rip and gouge. But it wasn’t Nicole, it was her dad.
Jameson was roaring in denial but Jay’s hearing was stuttering, coming in fits and starts.
‘… get away from my daughter!’
‘Daddy, no,’ Jay croaked.
Jameson Walker was a big man. Once he’d have been a force to be reckoned with, but that was decades ago. Now he was an old man trying to stand against an unstoppable monster.
Samuel slapped the butt of the gun into the side of Jameson’s head and her father went down like a felled tree.
Now Jay could hear everything. Above all rang the scream loosed by her mom. Jay felt a jolt go through her frame, as though her mother’s horror had empowered her. Samuel loomed over her fallen father, staring down at him, a look of glee on his lumpy face. He began to lift a knee, and Jay knew he was about to crush her dad like an insect underfoot.
Despite the gun in his hand, Jay sprang at Samuel, all her fear forgotten. With her open hand she struck him, not in a slap, but with the heel of her thumb driven forward and her arm locked behind it.
The force of the blow ricocheted back up her arm, almost dislocating her shoulder in the process. But it had the desired effect: it slammed Samuel’s head backwards, throwing him off balance. He had to settle his feet to avoid falling, and missed stamping down on her father’s throat as he’d planned. Samuel shook his head, his eyes screwed tight. But then he slowly opened them once more and it was as if he’d locked on to hers with heat-seeking lasers. There was a trickle of blood leaking from his nose, and he paused to wipe it away with the sleeve of his jacket. He grinned at her, blood-flecked saliva stitching his teeth together. His pupils looked like dark pits.
Jameson was moaning, coming round, and Samuel looked down at him. His inspection was brief, because the man was of no interest to him now. He stepped over him and lunged for Jay.
Jay didn’t care. She’d saved her dad and that was all that mattered.
Samuel grabbed her head in his left hand and pulled her close. The stench off him was unbearable. It grew worse when he opened his mouth to speak. Hot spittle showered her cheek, corrosive and foul.
‘Do you have any idea what I’m going to do to you?’
Jay couldn’t conjure such depravity.
All she could do was peer into the eyes of her nemesis, and in that instant she felt pride that she could do so.
She stared at him, her eyes blazing in challenge.
And this time she saw death descending.
43
I had to count on the probability that Samuel Logan’s natural instincts were to strike out with his fists as he was used to doing and not fire the gun. It was the only thing that would save lives because there was no way I could get to him quickly enough. I trusted my aim, could drop him at this distance, but what if he proved as impervious to my bullets as before? The group were bunched directly in front of him and his gun was up. If I fired then so might he and I didn’t want to see one of them fall. Instead I ran, swerving around parked cars to come at him from behind his right shoulder.
The Walkers and Challinors were milling around in a panic. Why weren’t they seeking shelter inside the hotel? Samuel didn’t look prepared to shoot any of them yet and was only using his gun to gain control of them; if they could get beyond the door then I’d have no qualms about taking him down.
I saw the problem.
Jay was rooted to the spot.
Shock could do that to the bravest of souls.
Even when her father tried to pull her away she yanked free of him in order that she didn’t lose sight of the man striding towards her.
I wanted to shout at her, but that would alert Samuel to my presence. Instead I ran harder.
Jameson Walker threw himself between his child and the man threatening her then went down in the next second. Samuel raised his heel to stamp the man to death, which was when Jay surprised us both: she drove her palm into Samuel’s chin with sickening force. It was a strike driven by desperation but it staggered the killer, if only for the briefest of seconds. He lunged after her, snared her head in his thick fingers and pulled her close.
Shit!
I still had no clear target.
I got a snapshot of the tableau.
Nicole was trying to go to her friend’s aid but was being held back by her parents. Mrs Walker had gone to her knees at her husband’s side, one hand on his face, the other reaching out to her daughter. The valet was the only one with the sense to run for the entrance door. From within the hotel voices were raised at the commotion outside.
Then that moment was broken as I finally reached a vantage point.
I still didn’t shoot Samuel, but used my gun in a wholly different fashion. The SIG isn’t the favoured weapon of some people because of the disproportionate weight of the butt when fully loaded, but to me, in my line of work, it was an asset. At a run, I launched myself through the air, raised my gun past my shoulder, and brought down the butt against Samuel’s right temple.
The blow was enough to shatter the skull of any man.