Standing outside the office, Evan spoke loud and precise. Lady, open the door or I will break it fucking down. Silence. Maybe the woman had spotted the back exit, been smart enough to leave.
Have it your way. Evan lashed out with his boot. The door shivered in its frame, but held. As he stepped back to wind up again, a sharp roar tore a chunk of wood out of the door, spraying splinters in all directions. As the second bullet punched through, Danny remembered the gun in the open drawer.
For a hesitant second nothing happened.
Then Evan exploded. Whatever demons shooting the pawnshop owner had freed took control of him again. He raised his pistol and pulled the trigger, aiming in a triangle of quick blasts. Not pointing at the lock but trying to hit her, trying to kill. At Dannys feet, the man groaned. Evan frothed and raged, kicking the door again. The frame was cracking, and Danny thought he could hear a whimper behind it. Everything had gone crazy, he was standing beside a pool of blood, Evan making enough noise to pull people for blocks, the lights on, for Christs sake, the fucking lights on.
Danny had taken two falls, one county and one state, done the time like a man, but for this theyd get years.
No. No more.
He opened the front door and slipped out into the night. His body screamed to run, just go, but he made himself walk. Not draw attention. Just a guy headed for the El, nothing noteworthy about that.
When he was two blocks away, he heard the sirens.
Copyright © 2007 by Marcus Sakey. All rights reserved.
Blood at the Root
"A gripping, timely, and important examination of American racism."
- PW Starred Review
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