The Devil's Right Hand - J. D. Rhoades [57]
“It’s a warm night,” Billy Ray said. “An’ we gotta go.”
At that moment, the door swung open. The blonde nurse Raymond had seen earlier chatting with the cop entered, holding a silver clipboard. Her blue eyes widened in shock as she saw Raymond out of bed and the guns in his hand. She dropped the clipboard which rattled noisily on the floor. Billy Ray strode quickly to the woman and yanked her towards him. He spun her around and wrapped one arm around her from behind. As the cop came into the room, he raised the pistol in his other hand and stuck it against the nurse’s ear. Raymond raised his own gun and pointed it at the cop. “Don’t do nothin’ stupid,” he said, “or he’ll scatter this bitch’s brains all over the room.” The nurse moaned in fear.
The cop raised his hands, as if placating them. “Easy, there, fellas,” he said softly. “Let’s don’t do something that everybody’s going to regret.”
“Good idea,” Raymond said. ‘Whyn’t you start by takin’ your gun outta the holster. With your left hand, two fingers. Or I’ll do somethin’ you sure as hell will regret.”
The cop hesitated a moment, every instinct warning him against giving up his weapon. Billy Ray yanked the nurse against him again, hard. She squeaked in fear, too frightened to scream. The cop shook his head. Slowly, he reached over with his left hand and unbuttoned the holster. He awkwardly removed the pistol, holding it between thumb and forefinger.
“Now put it on the floor. Slow.” Raymond said. “Then slide it over here with your foot.”
The cop bent over, his eyes never leaving Raymond’s face. He placed the gun on the worn linoleum. He slowly straightened up. “Okay,” he said. “Now what?”
“For you?” Raymond said. “Nothin’”. He pulled the trigger. The silenced pistol chattered. A line of red holes appeared across the the cop’s chest. This time the nurse did scream.
“Damn,” Billy Ray grimaced. He shoved the sobbing nurse towards the door, holding onto her collar with one hand and holding the gun into the small of her back with the other.
“He still had a radio,” Raymond shrugged. “He’d be on it as soon as we got outta the room. An’ I ain’t takin’ no cop along with us.” He followed Billy Ray out the door and into the hallway. A male nurse coming out of the room across the hall gaped at them as they came out. “Get back in there,” Raymond ordered. “And stay there.” The man obeyed, leaving the long hallway empty for the moment. Raymond knew that wouldn’t last; the hospital was a hive of activity at all hours of the day and night.
He looked at the ceiling. A row of widely spaced sprinklers ran down the center of the hallway, interspersed with heat and smoke sensors. “You got a lighter?” Raymond said. Billy Ray released the nurse long enough to fish a cigarette lighter out of the breast pocket of the coverall. Raymond flicked it on and held it up, directly under one of the sensors. After a few seconds, a loud klaxon horn blared, its ear-splitting honking repeating over and over. The sprinklers began spewing a soaking mist of water into the hallway. The nurse screamed again as the drenching downpour immediately soaked them to the skin, plastering their clothing to them. People began spilling into the hallway, nurses pushing patients in hospital beds and wheelchairs.
“No more water,” Raymond whispered, “but the fire next time.”
“Let her go,” Raymond said, motioning to the nurse. “She’ll only slow us down.” Billy Ray obeyed, shoving her into the crowd.
“He’s got a gun!” she screamed, and the crowd became a mob, pushing and shoving to get away from the water and the armed men. It was a scene of utter chaos, with people stumbling into one another and gurneys and wheelchairs