Free One Wrong Move by Shannon McKenna Page B

back, not if a bad scene was already going down inside. Frontal attack, then. Classic suicidal dickhead style.
    He ran up the stoop, tried the handle, using his sleeve. No need to leave a trail of fingerprints back to himself. Not that he expected to live through this. It was locked, of course.
    Aunt Tonya. He felt a sharp pang of regret. But he’d see her soon enough on the other side, if he bought it here today. Tonya would follow him out. If that was how it worked. Who knew.
    Whatever. No time.
    The street was deserted. No witnesses. He took a deep breath, swung up the shotgun, took aim at the door lock.
    Fuck it. Who wanted to live forever?
    “Nina,” Pockmarks crooned. “Nina, where are you?”
    He knew her name. Oh, God, that creeped her out. She put her hand over her mouth, pressing hard to keep her heart from jumping out . Small. Gray. Pebble. Brick. Blank wall. Not here. Nothing to see.
    “If you come out, I won’t hurt you,” he coaxed, in a deep, raspy voice. “Just tell us what Helga Kasyanov told you. That’s all we want. Tell us that, and we’ll go away. Never bother you again.”
    So why did you cut Yuri to pieces? Liar.
    She stuffed the thought as it formed, or that rough, prodding mind would sense it. Gray, small, blank, boring, nothing. Dry leaf.
    Brick wall. Nothing here. No one home.
    “Tell us, and we’ll stop bothering you.” Pockmarks’s voice was an oily ooze of menace. “We won’t bother your pretty friend, either—what’s her name again? Shayla, Sharon, Sheryl . . . Shira!
    Yes, that was it! Pretty, blond Shira. Who lives all alone in her studio apartment on Sixth Street.” He made an appreciative growl-ing sound. “Pretty legs. Pretty tits. We won’t bother her, or any of the other poor bitches in your shelter. We leave them all in peace.
    Everything like it was before. Just come out. Talk to us. Don’t be scared, Nina.”
    Brick wall. Blank, corrugated metal. No one here. No one home. She cowered, focusing her energy with all of her strength.
    “It would be fun, to pay Shira a visit some night,” the guy mused softly. “All four of us. We’ll bring some Viagra and some cocaine, and some duct tape. It would be fun. We could have fun with you, too, no?” He grinned, spinning around, groping for her.
    “You pretty, too? I bet you’re pretty. But all women are pretty with duct tape on their mouths. I like a quiet woman. I don’t like noise, see.” He paused, nostrils flaring wider. “You’re very quiet, Nina,” he whispered. “The most quiet woman I ever met. I go for that. You know what? I think you will be my very special friend, when I drag you out.”
    It barely registered. She logged his words for future reference on the edge of her consciousness, but she wouldn’t let them inside, to the real her. Where they could hurt. Another trick, from the Stan years.
    Steel reinforced, armor plated. Titanium plates. Smooth as glass.
    “So? Hear anything?” A different voice spoke, this one familiar. Nina leaned toward the knothole. It was one of the ghoul doctors, Granger, but in his live human aspect at the moment, thank God.
    “Not yet,” Pockmarks said curtly. “Don’t distract me.”
    “I told you she was good.” Granger sounded relieved. “We should both have been able to pick her up from this range. It’s not just me, man. I’m telling you, it’s the simax. The bitch is totally blocking us.”
    “And if you would shut up, I could get through it,” Pockmarks hissed. “Stop making all this noise. I’ll find her.”
    “We don’t have time for you to jerk around,” the bald guy said.
    “Got a text from Phil. Someone called in a home invasion here.
    Cops will be here soon. She went out a window, and called them.
    We gotta go.”
    “She didn’t have time,” the dark guy said. “Shut up.”
    She caught a glimpse of the bald guy’s face through the knothole before he stomped out. Hooked nose. Cruel, pale blue eyes, shifting and darting nervously. His