The Devil's Copper by Jamie Crothall (ebook audio reader .TXT) 📗

Jack finally acted, and threw himself at Shay.  They both toppled to the ground.  His gun went scattering, but unfortunately, so did Jack. He was never the most physical person.  Shay tossed him away effortlessly.  He looked for his gun, but when he saw Walter make a break for it, he went after him.

“Stay here,” Jack insisted.

“I have to help him!”

“What the hell can we do?”

I didn’t even want to talk to him at that point.

I followed Walter and Shay out into the parking lot, where the back-end of the tank truck protruded from the building.

Shay tackled Walter. There was a brief struggle until both managed to get back to their feet.  Both attempted to punch each other, but each of them evaded the other’s strikes.  It was as though both were able to anticipate and counter the other’s attacks.  Were they really both using the same ability?  How many timelines were rerouted in this fight?  If I had the time to reckon the temporal repercussions, I’d have had a field day.

Eventually, each managed to land a few punches.

Finally, in one quick move Shay ducked down, reached into his boot, pulled out a smaller pistol, and shot Walter.

Walter’s body snapped back as he toppled to the ground.

“No!” I cried.

I ran to Walter, blind to the danger I was putting myself in.  I threw myself down beside him, dropped the gun, and turned him over.  He was still breathing.

“Why didn’t you stop that from happening?” I asked.

“…I couldn’t…” he said with a deep cough.

Shay took a few steps closer, holding his gun at Walter and me.  He turned to Jack.  “You’re free to go,” he said.  “Your part of the deal is done.”  He then looked to me.  “You too.”

“No!” I spat.  “I won’t leave him.”

“Billie, come on!” Jack pleaded.

“…just go…” Walter insisted.

“I won’t.”

“Step aside.”

“No,” I said defiantly.

I glaring up at Shay.  I didn’t care about the gun.  I didn’t care about the threat. I wanted him to know I wasn’t afraid of him.  Even if it meant dying.

“You’re pathetic,” he spat.

Shay reared his arm back and stuck me.

I felt my body roll across the ground several times.  Rather than take the opportunity to shoot Walter, he instead walked over to me.  With his gun-hand, he once again reared back and struck me with it.

“What’s the matter with you, you freak?” he spat.

The venom was unlike anything I had ever heard or felt.

“Do you think you’re fooling anyone?”  He hit me again.

I looked to Jack, but he didn’t move, too afraid to interfere.

“You’re a goddamn abomination!” Shay shouted.

“…leave her alone…” Walter protested.

“ ‘Her?’ ”

Shay laughed, looking over his shoulder at him before looking back down at me.

“That’s a sick joke.  You’re a faggot,” he spat, striking me again.

I barely felt it by that point.  My head was numb, my vision was blurring.  But I still heard every word.

“A fucking faggot wearing a goddamn dress when I first saw you!” he laughed.  “Did you even look at yourself?”

Shay stopped his onslaught and looked down on me.  “I should shoot you and put you out of your goddamn misery.”

“…stop…”

I could barely focus on Jack, but he didn’t move.

Shay raised his gun.

I could barely make out the barrel pointing at me.

“Get up and face it like a man,” he sneered.

Sirens blared in the distance.

Shay growled. “Who the fuck called the police?”

“I did, you asshole,” Pat said over the intercom.

Three cruisers rounded the corner into the industrial park, and headed toward the entrance to the yard.

To Shay’s credit, (not that I want to give him much credit), he didn’t attempt to retreat, but rather stood his ground.  If he didn’t have an ability similar to, or better than Walter’s to guide him, he was overwhelmingly delusional.

The cruisers came to a stop alongside each other.  The doors flew open and each officer immediately used it as cover as they readied their weapons.

“Drop the gun!” a voice called.

It sounded like Riley.  I hoped it was Riley.

“Fuck you!” Shay countered.

He fired a single shot at them.

It was as though he wanted to test them.  I was pretty sure I understood.  It wasn’t police protocol to aim for the head, so any hit he received, he could recover from and counter in kind.  Provided they didn’t assault him with a combined hail of bullets.  Even then, I had to wonder how much of a recall he had.  For all I knew, it exceeded Walter’s ten seconds.

Shay side-stepped an officer’s attempt to take him down.  He fired back, taking out the rear-view mirror near the officer’s head.

He was toying with them!

“Come on!” he roared.  “Try harder!”

More shots came, but Shay always knew where to step, or shift his weight.

Even the police were perplexed.

I attempted to lift my head.  Everything was blurry. My consciousness was slipping.  But I knew I left a gun by Walter’s side.  I attempted to make my way to it.  I didn’t know if I had the strength.

“Billie, stay down,” Riley’s voice called out.

Shay turned, apparently bored with the police behind him.  He pointed his gun at me.

I didn’t know what to do. I held out my hand, as if it could somehow protect me.

“Sick ‘im, girl!”

Out of nowhere, a tiny little bichon frise leapt into action.  It lunged at Shay’s ankles.

“What the fuck,” he spat as he kicked it away.  The dog yelped as it went tumbling.

What a horrible way to treat a dog.

“You bastard!” Joey shouted.

Joey charged at Shay.  He was old, and slow, but I give him credit.  Joey charged Shay with the ferocity of a bull,