Free When the Devil Comes to Call (A Lars and Shaine Novel Book 2) by Eric Beetner

big hunk of the back side of his skull.
    Lars looked down and saw Shaine crouched low to the floor in the doorway, a terrified look on her face, but her gun steady in her hands.
    Lars looked to his right. Bruno had turned his gun from Lars to the new threat, the one who still had ammunition—Shaine.
    “Shaine, watch it,” Lars said. From his crouched position on the ground he pounced like an animal, his coiled legs launching him across the bed. Bruno fired at Shaine, but Lars was mid-flight and couldn’t see if she’d been hit.
    Lars hit Bruno in the chest and together they flung backward through the glass doors of the third floor balcony. The glass shattered louder than any of the gunshots. Tiny pebbles of tempered glass coated them like a sudden hailstorm. Bruno hit the balcony wall and railing with his back and pushed out what remaining air he held in his lungs.
    As Bruno fought to draw another breath, Lars clenched his fists, got a firmer grip on Bruno’s clothes, and lifted. Lars had a body sculpted by yoga, not weightlifting. Bruno had a body sculpted by spaghetti dinners and red wine. Lars pictured the image of Shaine, the terrified look on her face as she crouched in the doorway, the same look the day he met her back in New Mexico. He hoisted Bruno almost over his head, but couldn’t quite finish the clean and jerk. He pushed out, away from his body and Bruno went over the edge.
    Lars fell forward, gripping the railing of the balcony as his muscles protested the exertion. He watched as Bruno’s body fell, the gun still in his hand. Lars saw Bruno gasp, finally drawing a lungful of air, right before he went into the pool.
    Goddamn swimming pool, a blue all-weather cover pulled tight over the top. Bruno hit hard, his back slapping the covering which swallowed him inside a blue wrapper, ice cold water leaking through the mesh. Lars could be fairly certain Bruno got the wind knocked out of him for a second time. He could also be fairly sure he wasn’t dead.
    Lars turned back to Shaine. She lifted the gun and fired. Lars flinched, then saw the man on the floor, the one with the ruined feet. His arm was extended out toward Lars, gun at the ready. To match his feet, he had a new hole in his back.
    Lars walked forward, took the gun out of the man’s hand, then pulled a pillow down from the bed. He put it over the man’s head and fired once to be sure.
    He crouched down to Shaine. “You okay?”
    “Yeah. Are you?”
    “Thanks to you.”
    “Who are they?”
    “Long story. One’s still out there. Get packed, both of our stuff, we gotta go.”
    Lars bolted for the door. He hopped over the two bodies blocking the threshold and ran down the hall to the stairs. He popped the clip on the new gun as he ran, checked his ammo. A few left. He slapped the clip back in as he burst through the door and hit the top step. He moved quickly, but quietly. The hotel management would be in full panic mode. Cops would be on their way.
    Lars hated how long it took to reach the ground floor. He left the stairwell and had to spin in a full circle to figure out where he stood on the hotel grounds. He felt the slap of cold, was sure the icy water had slapped Bruno harder.
    He saw a fence surrounding the pool and ran for it. He got to the entry gate and saw the hotel card key reader and sign warning No Admittance without a room key .
    Lars could see Bruno pull his legs out from the blue tarp over the pool. He dripped water as he lurched like a full bottle drunk away from the pool. Lars grabbed the metal bars of the gate and pulled himself up.
    He heard the first siren. Then he saw a car pull to a stop and throw open the passenger door. Bruno’s ride. Lars fell off the gate onto the pool side, landed awkwardly on his hip, then pushed up and ran. Dodging all weather recliner chairs he made it to the edge of the pool, but he knew he couldn’t catch up.
    Bruno had reached the car and the driver hit the gas before his last wet leg made it