shiny investigator badge dangling boldly on his chest.
“Leave him alone,” I bellowed, helpless. “He doesn't have anything to do with this. He's just a stupid kid.” I couldn't bear to watch someone else get killed for me.
With his right hand tucked in his pocket and his left at his side, Crevis sprinted toward the assailant.
The huge guy took a swipe at Crevis, who ducked at the last second. The guy's arm sailed over Crevis's head, leaving him off balance.
Crevis sidestepped and raised his left hand, pepper spraying the guy.
“Aaah!” The goon's gloved hands covered his eyes.
Crevis pulled his hand from his pocket and fired a punch to his face so hard I heard it connect. The guy's legs wobbled, and he staggered back.
Crevis crashed two more rights to his opponent's face and then followed up with a beauty front kick to the man-spot. The thug released a primal scream as he collapsed to his knees.
Bigfoot crushed down harder on me. “What are you doing? Take him out!”
His focus shifted off me for a second as he watched Crevis draw his baton and whack his buddy about the face and neck like he was beating a piñata. My cane lay just underneath my truck. I reached out with my right hand, caught the tip, and held it tight.
As Bigfoot's accomplice fell sideways on the floor, clutching his groin and moaning, Crevis stepped over his writhing body and pointed to my attacker. “You're next!”
He raised his pistol at Crevis. I whipped my cane from underneath the truck and caught his thick wrist hard. He yelped and dropped the gun, which discharged when it hit the ground. Crevis scurried behind a couple of cars.
I loaded the cane over my head and thumped the brass handle down hard on Bigfoot's chest, knocking him back into the truck. I squared up again and gave him two more whacks for good measure.
He slid down the quarter panel of the truck, catching himself before he fell to the ground. He crawled behind the van next to me.
I rolled to my left and snatched my pistol out of my waistband, pumping out three rounds his way. Plastic exploded from the taillight. I searched underneath the van, and he sprinted between the vehicles.
I fired a couple more times at his feet, sparks flaring up from the concrete. I didn't know if he was going to get another weapon. I wasn't taking any chances.
“Ray, are you okay?”
“Stay down, Crevis!” I pushed with my left leg and scooted forward like an inchworm to see more of the garage.
The big man crossed between two cars toward his cohort. Another salvo of rounds thundered from my Glock, and glass shattered as I tracked his movement. A car alarm erupted, echoing through the garage. His battered buddy managed to make it to his feet and stumbled toward the cars, still crumpled over and limping.
A door slammed shut and tires squealed. I pumped a few shots at them as they sped out of the garage in a blue Lincoln Town Car. I didn't know if I hit either of them or the car. I needed to get over and look for a blood trail.
Crevis ran to me. He removed a set of bloody brass knuckles from his right hand, then jammed it back in his pocket as he knelt beside me. “What do you want me to do?”
“Give me a second,” I said, catching my breath. I fell back against the deck, my pistol still in my hand, smoke pouring from the barrel. The acrid smell of scorched gunpowder permeated the air around me, and my ears rang from the concussions of the shots. A car alarm warbled around us.
Bigfoot had stomped me good, and I think I finally found a decent date for Helga. My right leg twitched uncontrollably, and I hoped I wouldn't need another surgery. I needed to try to stand up.
“Take my hand,” I said to Crevis. He looked reluctant, especially after the last time he tried to help me and I nearly bit his head off. I rolled up onto my left hip and slipped my pistol back in the holster. “It's okay. Just take my hand and help me up.”
He took my right hand and pulled hard. I stiffened
“Leave him alone,” I bellowed, helpless. “He doesn't have anything to do with this. He's just a stupid kid.” I couldn't bear to watch someone else get killed for me.
With his right hand tucked in his pocket and his left at his side, Crevis sprinted toward the assailant.
The huge guy took a swipe at Crevis, who ducked at the last second. The guy's arm sailed over Crevis's head, leaving him off balance.
Crevis sidestepped and raised his left hand, pepper spraying the guy.
“Aaah!” The goon's gloved hands covered his eyes.
Crevis pulled his hand from his pocket and fired a punch to his face so hard I heard it connect. The guy's legs wobbled, and he staggered back.
Crevis crashed two more rights to his opponent's face and then followed up with a beauty front kick to the man-spot. The thug released a primal scream as he collapsed to his knees.
Bigfoot crushed down harder on me. “What are you doing? Take him out!”
His focus shifted off me for a second as he watched Crevis draw his baton and whack his buddy about the face and neck like he was beating a piñata. My cane lay just underneath my truck. I reached out with my right hand, caught the tip, and held it tight.
As Bigfoot's accomplice fell sideways on the floor, clutching his groin and moaning, Crevis stepped over his writhing body and pointed to my attacker. “You're next!”
He raised his pistol at Crevis. I whipped my cane from underneath the truck and caught his thick wrist hard. He yelped and dropped the gun, which discharged when it hit the ground. Crevis scurried behind a couple of cars.
I loaded the cane over my head and thumped the brass handle down hard on Bigfoot's chest, knocking him back into the truck. I squared up again and gave him two more whacks for good measure.
He slid down the quarter panel of the truck, catching himself before he fell to the ground. He crawled behind the van next to me.
I rolled to my left and snatched my pistol out of my waistband, pumping out three rounds his way. Plastic exploded from the taillight. I searched underneath the van, and he sprinted between the vehicles.
I fired a couple more times at his feet, sparks flaring up from the concrete. I didn't know if he was going to get another weapon. I wasn't taking any chances.
“Ray, are you okay?”
“Stay down, Crevis!” I pushed with my left leg and scooted forward like an inchworm to see more of the garage.
The big man crossed between two cars toward his cohort. Another salvo of rounds thundered from my Glock, and glass shattered as I tracked his movement. A car alarm erupted, echoing through the garage. His battered buddy managed to make it to his feet and stumbled toward the cars, still crumpled over and limping.
A door slammed shut and tires squealed. I pumped a few shots at them as they sped out of the garage in a blue Lincoln Town Car. I didn't know if I hit either of them or the car. I needed to get over and look for a blood trail.
Crevis ran to me. He removed a set of bloody brass knuckles from his right hand, then jammed it back in his pocket as he knelt beside me. “What do you want me to do?”
“Give me a second,” I said, catching my breath. I fell back against the deck, my pistol still in my hand, smoke pouring from the barrel. The acrid smell of scorched gunpowder permeated the air around me, and my ears rang from the concussions of the shots. A car alarm warbled around us.
Bigfoot had stomped me good, and I think I finally found a decent date for Helga. My right leg twitched uncontrollably, and I hoped I wouldn't need another surgery. I needed to try to stand up.
“Take my hand,” I said to Crevis. He looked reluctant, especially after the last time he tried to help me and I nearly bit his head off. I rolled up onto my left hip and slipped my pistol back in the holster. “It's okay. Just take my hand and help me up.”
He took my right hand and pulled hard. I stiffened
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