the balls.
The boot came up unerringly between Harry’s legs. He watched it coming, his head down in a “oh man, I’m hurt” stance. But at the last second, he let his hands drop from his stomach and cup around the girl’s ankle. She was forced to move forward to keep her balance, pulling her almost right on top of Callahan.
Then he straightened up like a wrecking ball. The top of his head cracked into her jaw; the sound sharp enough to send a jolt through all present. After her initial strike, they thought they were going to have easy pickings.
Harry took advantage of their surprise by following the falling girl. He practically pushed the woman into the other guards behind her, clearing a space for him to break through deeper in the store. They moved away from the cop as if he were a leper and charged the front door as if the place was on fire.
Callahan didn’t mind. Their panic kept the four guards at the door pinned, making it a lot easier for him to move. The non-militant SAFE members backed away to the walls and then ran forward, leaving the back of the room to the caps, berets, and Harry. As he ran past them toward the back wall, his eyes searched for a possible escape route.
There had to be one, because as quickly as he scanned, he noted that Steele was no longer in sight either. He had probably gone the way Kim and her friend exited because they too did not leave by the front entrance. Harry hurled tables behind him, scattering the chairs as they fell. The store became an obstacle course. As he ran out of room, two of his pursuers, one man and one woman, got their legs caught in the rolling furniture. They both went down.
There were two doors on the rear wall—one to the right in the corner and one to the left near a white-washed window.
Harry chose the left door. He reasoned that behind the window—opaque or not—there was most likely a way out of the building. Grabbing the almost empty metal tray of donuts as he pivoted sharply to the left, he swung it viciously behind him, catching a male pursuer in the neck. He choked, reddened, and went down, the tray flipping over his falling head.
Having cleared the way, Harry raced to the left-hand door, seeing that it opened outward. Not worrying about a lock or taking the time to turn the knob, he bellowed and sent himself through the air. He smashed lengthwise into the door with all his power, ripping the rotting thing out of the doorjamb and practically pulling its pins out of the wall.
The door swung back, Callahan flew through, and smashed in a standing position against the back wall of a tiny bathroom.
“Kim,” Steele breathed into her ear as the two were running. “Kim, please. Slow down.”
But the girl was too excited, too thrilled at the way things were turning out. She flew in front of both Steele and her female companion, leading them down one alley after another.
It was an incredible stroke of luck that the reporter had been there to identify Callahan. It saved her the trouble of siccing the SAFE guards on him in the alley just outside the right back door—the same door through which she had hustled Steele.
Now, hopefully, the brawny guards would beat him to death. But whether he was killed or just severely mauled didn’t matter to her. She was safe either way. But to make the plan complete, there was one other loose end to cover.
She kept running, concentrating on her plan, until Steele, nervous and tired, began to stumble.
“Kim,” the redhead called, taking the SAFE leader’s arm. “We’re losing him.”
Only then did the girl slow, reaching into her pocket.
“Come on, Michael,” she admonished, taking some white powder in a little baggie out of her pocket. “You can do it. Just need a little more fuel, that’s all.” She stuck the open top of the plastic holder under his nose, and he inhaled. Seconds later, they were running again.
“Jesus, Kim,” the redhead complained, still at Steele’s side. “Now I need to
The boot came up unerringly between Harry’s legs. He watched it coming, his head down in a “oh man, I’m hurt” stance. But at the last second, he let his hands drop from his stomach and cup around the girl’s ankle. She was forced to move forward to keep her balance, pulling her almost right on top of Callahan.
Then he straightened up like a wrecking ball. The top of his head cracked into her jaw; the sound sharp enough to send a jolt through all present. After her initial strike, they thought they were going to have easy pickings.
Harry took advantage of their surprise by following the falling girl. He practically pushed the woman into the other guards behind her, clearing a space for him to break through deeper in the store. They moved away from the cop as if he were a leper and charged the front door as if the place was on fire.
Callahan didn’t mind. Their panic kept the four guards at the door pinned, making it a lot easier for him to move. The non-militant SAFE members backed away to the walls and then ran forward, leaving the back of the room to the caps, berets, and Harry. As he ran past them toward the back wall, his eyes searched for a possible escape route.
There had to be one, because as quickly as he scanned, he noted that Steele was no longer in sight either. He had probably gone the way Kim and her friend exited because they too did not leave by the front entrance. Harry hurled tables behind him, scattering the chairs as they fell. The store became an obstacle course. As he ran out of room, two of his pursuers, one man and one woman, got their legs caught in the rolling furniture. They both went down.
There were two doors on the rear wall—one to the right in the corner and one to the left near a white-washed window.
Harry chose the left door. He reasoned that behind the window—opaque or not—there was most likely a way out of the building. Grabbing the almost empty metal tray of donuts as he pivoted sharply to the left, he swung it viciously behind him, catching a male pursuer in the neck. He choked, reddened, and went down, the tray flipping over his falling head.
Having cleared the way, Harry raced to the left-hand door, seeing that it opened outward. Not worrying about a lock or taking the time to turn the knob, he bellowed and sent himself through the air. He smashed lengthwise into the door with all his power, ripping the rotting thing out of the doorjamb and practically pulling its pins out of the wall.
The door swung back, Callahan flew through, and smashed in a standing position against the back wall of a tiny bathroom.
“Kim,” Steele breathed into her ear as the two were running. “Kim, please. Slow down.”
But the girl was too excited, too thrilled at the way things were turning out. She flew in front of both Steele and her female companion, leading them down one alley after another.
It was an incredible stroke of luck that the reporter had been there to identify Callahan. It saved her the trouble of siccing the SAFE guards on him in the alley just outside the right back door—the same door through which she had hustled Steele.
Now, hopefully, the brawny guards would beat him to death. But whether he was killed or just severely mauled didn’t matter to her. She was safe either way. But to make the plan complete, there was one other loose end to cover.
She kept running, concentrating on her plan, until Steele, nervous and tired, began to stumble.
“Kim,” the redhead called, taking the SAFE leader’s arm. “We’re losing him.”
Only then did the girl slow, reaching into her pocket.
“Come on, Michael,” she admonished, taking some white powder in a little baggie out of her pocket. “You can do it. Just need a little more fuel, that’s all.” She stuck the open top of the plastic holder under his nose, and he inhaled. Seconds later, they were running again.
“Jesus, Kim,” the redhead complained, still at Steele’s side. “Now I need to
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