Out of the Black - Lee Doty [62]
Three rows of shelves were stacked up against the wall with the exits. They approached the last open aisle between the shelves and Rae darted her head around the corner to survey the scene by the exi. She shook her head and they took a few steps back. "Six by the door... all with what look like hunting knives now." she whispered.
"Hooboy." Ping said dryly. "How are you with knives?"
"Two words: 'sicked out', I could never use one in anger." She shuddered. "But that's okay, I don't have one... you think I could bluff them with the pistol?"
Ping shook his head. "You can tell by the knives that they know what's up... I don't think you're gonna fool them."
"Maybe I could shame them into letting us by?"
"I've still got Roy's sword..."
She looked horrified. "You could really...?"
"I know what you mean." He gave her a tight grin. The idea of using an edged weapon was pretty grim, and anyone who thought differently hadn't given the matter much thought. Getting stuck with one was even more unappealing. "We do need to move though. Feds or no, I have a feeling their reinforcements are coming before ours."
"We've got reinforcements?" She raised her eyebrows.
"Er... no. Not unless you and Alex mobilized your local wizard's club."
"Yeah, we called them all." She shook her head. "But we're already both here... and I'm only an honorary member."
"Stay with Alex. There's a small chance I'll be back." Ping reached into his jacket pocket and put a hand on the collapsed sword.
"Stranger things have happened." She said as they sat Alex on the floor and leaned him against the wall.
"No kidding." Ping stood and turned toward his grim work.
"So, who here needs the orthopedic enema?" Ping shouted as he stepped from between the shelves. He channeled his fear into an art he liked to call "game face maintenance". Sometimes to look good is to feel good.
The five men and one woman spread out around the doorway to the stairs, raising their blades. Most were wearing that evil gonna-get-to-cut-someone grin considered socially acceptable in pre-murder situations. Ping had always been bad at bravado. But then he was pretty good at what would come next.
There was a moment of disorientation as he flipped through the air like a rag doll heaved into the air. He colliding with the... uh... ceiling. Yep... below him was the floor... that hard thing against his back was the ceiling. A cloud of dust from the destroyed acoustic tiles surrounded him. He'd slammed through the suspended ceiling and was now pinned against one of the building's ventilation ducts. Dazed, he looked around... none of the knife-wielders had been affected by the sudden reversal of gravity.
"Whoa... guess I get the enema." He mumbled, shaking his head.
"Detective Bannon!" Good Cop said, limping out of the now immobile shelving on the other side of the central aisle, "I must say I'm a little surprised to see you're playing such a key role in our investigation."
Ping groaned at the pun and the unseen force that was now using him to crumple the ventilation shaft above him.
"You'll never get away with this, Garvey!" Ping wheezed with his most melodramatic voice, expending all his energy to shake a fist weakly before him for emphasis.
They both had a good laugh, though Ping's terminated in a series of coughs.
"You never cease to amuse Detective. I think I'll kill you in a minute. But till then..." Good Cop wiggled his finger theatrically.
Ping fell the nearly four meters to the floor, landing with all the grace of a dead fish dropped at the market.
"Nice landing!" Garvey laughed, clearly enjoying his work.
Eyes closed against the starbursts that filled his vision, Ping wondered what the connection was between evil and laughter. If he had to do it over, this would have been the subject of his dissertation. "I thought... you were supposed to be... the good cop." Ping choked out, spitting blood from lips twisted between a smile and a wince.
"Oh I believe you'll find that I'm rather bad." Garvey said, grinning and nodding with the admission, "Especially