Elric to Rescue Tanelorn - Michael Moorcock [96]
It was actually a tiny detonator. He touched the wires to the detonator, and the explosive at the other end burst the lock with a flash.
He pushed at the wrecked door and walked in to find Frank already there.
Frank did not look at all well. In his right hand was a needle gun, twin to Jerry’s. There were only two such guns; their father had had them made and given them one each.
“How did you get away?” Jerry asked Frank.
Frank’s answer was not a direct one. He put his head on one side and stared at Jerry unblinkingly, looking like an old, sick vulture.
“Well, actually I was hoping to get you, Jerry. As it was I got all your military friends, though I think I missed some of the others. They’re still wandering about, I think. I’m not sure why I bothered with the shooting—probably just because I enjoyed it. I feel much better now. But if you’d crossed into the room you’d have found that a couple—ha, ha—of my men were on either side of the door waiting for you. I was the bait, the bait to the trap.”
Frank’s head seemed to be sinking deeper and deeper into his shoulders as he talked, his whole body screwed up in a neurotic stoop. “You certainly made a good try at getting our sister, didn’t you? Look—I’ve woken the sleeping beauty up.”
Catherine, looking dazed, was propped on pillows.
She smiled when she saw Jerry. It was a sweet smile, but it wasn’t all that confident. Her skin was more than naturally pale, and her dark hair was still tangled.
Jerry’s gun hand rose a trifle, and Frank grinned. “Let’s get ready, then,” he said.
He began to back around the bed in order to get on the other side of Catherine. She was now between them, looking slowly from one to the other, her smile fading very gradually.
Jerry was trembling. “You bastard.”
Frank giggled. “That’s something we all have in common.”
Frank’s junkie’s face was immobile. The only movement in it came when the light caught his bright, beady eyes. Jerry didn’t realize that Frank had pulled the trigger of his gun until he felt the sting in his shoulder. Frank’s hand wasn’t as steady as it had seemed.
Frank didn’t repressure his gun at once. Jerry raised his arm to shoot Frank.
Then Catherine moved. She reached out towards Frank, her fingers clutching at his coat. “Stop it!”
“Shut up,” said Frank. He moved his left hand towards the pressure lever of his needle gun.
Catherine tried to stand up on the bed and fell forward in a kneeling position. Her face was full of wild fear.
“Jerry!” she screamed.
Jerry took a step towards her.
“That needle could work into your heart, Jerry,” smiled Frank.
“So I’ll need a magnet.”
Jerry fired and ran towards the window as a needle grazed his face. He repressured and turned. Frank ducked; Catherine rose, and Jerry’s needle caught her. She collapsed, Jerry repressured and discharged another needle at the same time as Frank. They both missed again.
Jerry began to feel puzzled. This was going on far too long. He jumped towards Frank and grabbed at his body. Frank’s weak fists struck him on the head and back. He punched Frank in the stomach, and Frank groaned. They stepped apart. Jerry felt dizzy; saw Frank grin and wheel.
“You had something in those needles…”
“Find out,” grinned Frank, and he sprang from the room.
Jerry sat himself down on the edge of the bed.
He was riding a black ferris wheel of emotions. His brain and body exploded in a torrent of mingled ecstasy and pain. Regret. Guilt. Relief. Waves of pale light flickered. He fell down a never-ending slope of obsidian rock surrounded by clouds of green,