"Aim better."
"I wasn't trying to kill you."
Nirax leaned forward. The Church ceiling rolled. The bench looked odd, missing its back half. Nirax watched Airthe.
"Why not?"
Nirax laughed.
Airthe looked down. His temple throbbed. A bullet had grazed his skull. His pants were torn at the knees. His legs were bleeding, lying a few paces away.
Nirax smiled at him. "Missing something?"
Airthe could not find words. His tongue searched but his mind bubbled with confusion. He had no pain. No –
Needles wandered into Airthe's sense of feeling. He winced, and stared.
Nirax had leaned forward slightly, his elbows resting on his knees, one hand cupping his chin. A smile lit his face. "You're beginning to feel it," he said.
Beginning?
Airthe glanced to his legs. His mind refused to accept the distance. Across the way, partway across the room.
Light filtered through the broken roof, through the shattered windows.
"When are they going to be here?" Airthe asked.
Nirax stood and flipped the handgun around. He caught it by the barrel. He tossed it again and missed. The gun clattered on the floor. A mosaic tile chipped.
"As soon as they're done with the old woman," Nirax said. He paused. "You'll be here to greet them."
Airthe looked across the room. A single patch of wall was clear of blood.
"If you survive that long, of course," Nirax added. He kicked the gun in Airthe's direction.
The gun slid nearer, slicked with red. Airthe reached for it; it sat just outside his range.
NIrax laughed and turned his back.
"Good luck defending yourself. Better luck convincing them you weren't the one to kill everyone here. You look rather guilty, you know."
The door opened. The door closed. Airthe stared in the silence. Nirax was gone.
No comments:
Post a Comment