The Cold Six Thousand - James Ellroy [255]
Nobody—all hands on deck. Slow now—with a deeeeeep breath.
He did it. He walked topside. He took baby steps. He got fifty-foot butterflies. His breath tugged. His hands shook. His sphincter blew. He smelled his shit. He smelled his sweat. He smelled cooked silencer threads.
Baby steps—three more now. Make the deck/watch your feet.
He pulled one Beretta. He cocked it. He climbed two guns out. His breath tugged. Baby steps slow and—
He hit the deck. His breath stopped. His left arm ripped. Pain shot heart to arm—fucked arteries.
He gulped air. He sucked spray. He fell to his knees. He dropped his left-hand gun. It clattered on teak.
He made noise. Somebody yelled. Noise boomed behind him.
Stanton.
Stanton yelled, “Dick!” Stanton yelled, “Pete!”
Down the deck. Forty feet. The aft rotor-seats.
Pete pitched forward. His left arm blew. The deck cracked his teeth. He rolled over. He gulped breath. He spit out cracked teeth.
He heard Guéry—aft and left—“I don’t see him.”
He heard Stanton—back-stairs aft—“I think he got Dick.”
He heard slides click. He heard hammers cock. He heard rounds snap in. His left arm exploded. His left arm died. His left arm flopped free.
He sucked air. He sucked hard. It hurt bad. It burned bad. He lodged some breath free.
He crawled.
One-handed. One-armed. At one-arm speed. He brushed a rope stack. It was cover. Thick ropes stacked deep.
He heard foot scuffs. They scuffed mid-deck left. He saw pantlegs and feet.
Guéry—fast-walking—his way.
His breath crimped. He saw starbursts. He saw twelve legs and feet. He aimed off the ropes. He aimed low. He fired.
He popped six shots fast. He got six muzzle bursts. Double vision/tracer zips/spider legs and feet.
Guéry screamed. Guéry dropped. Guéry grabbed his feet. Guéry fired way high. Shots ripped a mast sheet.
Pete sucked air. Pete got air. Pete got a bead. He aimed head high. He pulled slooow.
The slide jammed. Muzzle light dispersed. He saw Guéry with stump feet.
He heard foot scuffs. They scuffed way aft. They scuffed the back stairs clear. He pulled gun 3. His pump lurched. He dropped it.
Guéry fired. Shots hit the ropes. Shots ricocheted.
Pete rolled free. Pete crawled. Pete crawled with one arm and two feet. Guéry saw him. Guéry stretched prone. Guéry fired.
Tracers—loud and close in. Over his head. Scraping the gunwales. Ripping through teak. Six shots/seven/full clip.
Guéry dropped the gun. Pete got close. Pete one-arm leaped.
He bared his teeth. He bit down. He got Guéry’s cheek. He raked his fingers up and out. He gouged an eye free.
Guéry screamed. Guéry swung a fist. Guéry hit bared teeth. Pete bit down. Pete snapped bone. Pete made his good hand a V.
Guéry screeched. It was high-decibel. It was half whine/half screech.
Pete drove his hand up. Pete ripped throat tissue. Pete smashed neck bones. Pete drove up to bridgework and teeth.
Guéry spasmed. Pete yanked his arm out. Pete made a hole elbow-deep. Guéry spasmed. Pete rolled back. Pete dug in and shoved with his feet.
He kicked Guéry. He kicked hard right. He kicked him off the deck. He kicked him into the sea.
He heard a splash. He heard a scream. He sucked breath. He got breath. He crawled free.
He crawled. He crawled one-armed. Noise cut through deck teak.
It’s Stanton. He’s below deck. That’s steel gnashing steel. He’s in the cargo hold. He’s loading shotguns. Steel’s jamming on steel.
Pete sucked air. Pete rolled up. Pete made his knees. His bladder blew. His breath stopped. He sucked air in deep.
He walked. He staggered. He threw lopsided weight. He made the back steps. He smashed at the door. He threw lopsided weight.
Zero—weak weight—no give.
He kicked the door. He shoved the door. He threw lopsided weight.
Zero—weak weight—no give.
Barricade/smashproof/blocked stairs below.
Pete kneeled down. Pete laid down lopsided. Pete got echoes off the deckwood. Pete heard steel gnash steel.
It’s about three feet over. It’s about ten feet up. The deck’s scuffed there. It’s threadbare. It’s breakable teak.
Pete hauled his