Free Denouement by E. H. Reinhard Page A

the air. His body crashed hard three quarters of the way down the steps. His momentum took him feet over head down the remaining steps into the wall at the bottom. Ray’s breath left his lungs, and he came to rest in a seated position with his back against the wall. He faced the stairwell leading up and tried to pull his feet under himself to stand. He also tried to take air into his lungs.
    The sound of pounding footsteps echoed in Ray’s head. Someone was running down the stairs at him. Ray got a single foot under him when his already blurry vision exploded into an array of color. Ray felt the back of his head hit the wall. He felt another blow to the side of his head. Ray slumped down onto his right side and tried pulling himself away from the attacker. Ray felt a blow to the back of his head, and the floor meet his face. Everything went black.
    Ray opened his eyes. Light entered. He looked left to right. A dark-haired man stood leaning against the kitchen sink on the phone.
    “Yeah, I have him,” the man said.
    Ray squinted—his vision blurred again before coming into focus. The man was an inch or two over six foot, his weight around two hundred. Ray couldn’t figure out how the man, inches shorter and almost a hundred fifty pounds lighter, could have gotten the better of him.
    “It looks like he’s coming to. I’ll see you guys in a bit.” The man clicked off the phone, set it down, and came toward Ray. “I bet you didn’t think you were in for an ass kicking tonight, did you? Special forces, bitch.”
    Ray groaned. “You’re the boss fed, Faust?”
    “Yes. Welcome to my home. Are you enjoying your stay so far?”
    Ray didn’t respond. He looked down to where his elbows rested on his thighs. His forearms and hands were free, but from his elbows up to his chest, duct tape was securing him to the back of the chair he sat upon.
    “You seem to like tying people to chairs, so I figured I’d return the favor,” Faust said.
    Ray looked over at him. Next to the agent on the countertop was a gun and what remained of the roll of duct tape.
    Ray chuckled and shook his head. “So how are your other two feds doing? I about pulled the one’s head from his body. I always wanted to try that.”
    Faust lunged at Ray and cocked his fist. Ray lifted his chin and awaited the strike, but the fed stopped, seemingly trying to restrain himself.
    Ray smiled at him. “That whole code-of-conduct thing is a bitch, isn’t it? You want to hit me, probably kill me while I sit here, but your morals stop you.” Ray shook his head. “That’s rough. Especially after what I did to your buddies.”
    The agent planted a hard right square into Ray’s nose. Ray’s head snapped back from the blow, and his eyes welled up. He felt blood running over his lips.
    “You know your agents were both talkers, right? I mean, the last one gave up your address almost immediately,” Ray said. “All it took was me scooping his eyeball from his head, and he was singing like a songbird.”
    The fed paced the kitchen. “Keep running your mouth, asshole,” Faust said. “You must have me mistaken for someone that has to answer for their actions.”
    Ray continued, “The other one, the first one, he looked at me with sad little puppy-dog eyes right as I put a bullet through his brain.”
    Faust continued pacing. Ray could see the anger building in the man. He pressed. “What was the second guy’s name? I forget.”
    Faust didn’t respond.
    “You know, the one that I pulled the eye out of? He actually asked me to kill him. He begged for it. It was just pathetic.”
    The agent went to the kitchen island, scooped the roll of duct tape from the counter and ripped off a six-inch section. “I’ve had enough of your mouth. You should thank me for this. Shutting you up might be the only thing that keeps you alive.”
    Faust walked toward Ray with the piece of tape stretched out. He came at Ray to place the tape over his mouth. Ray plunged his head