The Millionaires - Brad Meltzer [170]
Climbing up so she was sitting on Charlie’s chest, Gillian bunched the tips of her fingers together like a dull dagger and aimed for the open wound on Charlie’s shoulder. “Don’t black out on me,” she warned. She raised her arm back t—
A thunderbolt of a blast detonated in the other room. A gunshot. The echo rumbled along the metal walls of the warehouse.
Jolted, Gillian turned at the sound. That was all Charlie needed. Reaching up, he threw a single punch and plowed his fist into her neck. With Gillian off-balance, he turned on his stomach. Ten feet away—beyond the character heads wobbling along the floor—Charlie spotted the gun under the clothes rack. Scrambling on his elbows, he tried to reach it, but Gillian was still on his back. From behind, he felt a sudden shift in weight. A blur of orange and black fur flashed in front of him. And before he knew what was happening, something furry wrapped around his neck. Pulling Tigger’s tail like the reins on a horse, Gillian leaned back as far as she could.
Gasping for air, Charlie clawed at his neck, trying to wedge his fingers under the costume tail. That’s when he felt the wire. It was curled inside the tail—a thin metal spring, like a Slinky. On most days, it convinced thousands of kids that Tigger could really bounce. Today, as Gillian looped it around her hands and pulled it taut, all it did was dig deeper into Charlie’s throat.
Arching upward on his stomach and scratching ruthlessly at his own neck, Charlie twisted and turned, but Gillian wouldn’t let go. The more he bucked, the tighter she pulled, and the harder it was for Charlie to breathe. Gagging from the pressure, he felt the blood flood his face. He gritted his teeth, trying to suck in one last breath. Nothing came. Across his throat, the metal wire sliced against his Adam’s apple.
His nose started to bleed and a dribble of blood matched the one on his lip. In front of him, floating gray spots cartwheeled through the air. But even with his vision blurred… even with Gillian on his back… he couldn’t shake the mental picture of Oliver. Or his mom. Blinking back to consciousness, Charlie let go of the wire around his neck. Some strings had to be cut.
Across the floor, past Mickey’s and Pluto’s wobbling heads, he could still see the gun. It was too far. But there was one thing closer. With one final burst from his good arm, Charlie reached out, grabbed the leather strap that was attached to the inside of Pluto’s head, and turned as hard as he could on his side. The wire was still digging into his throat. This part would definitely hurt. Ignoring the burning against his neck, he twisted around, held the strap with everything in him, and swung Pluto’s head back toward Gillian. Arcing through the air, the head clipped her on the side of her face like a fifteen-pound cannonball and sent Gillian crashing to the floor.
As Charlie rolled over on his back, Gillian let go of Tigger’s tail, but she didn’t let up.
“You’re a dead man!” she roared as Charlie coughed in a chestful of newfound air. She quickly climbed to her feet. Searching for balance, so did Charlie. But he still couldn’t catch his breath. Bent over with his shoulder throbbing, he could barely stand, much less hold off another attack. A thin stream of blood ran down from Gillian’s nose. “Feeling it now, aren’t you?” she asked.
His breathing sputtered, and his mouth hung open, sucking in air. He knew he couldn’t take another hit.
Unsure of what to do, he thought about running… He searched for the door and then—No. Enough running.
Planting his feet, he turned back to Gillian and tightened his grip on the leather strap. She rushed toward him in a rabid rage. Unmoving, Charlie arched his arm back. His eyes narrowed. He was holding the strap so tight, his nails were digging into his palm. Not yet… not yet, he counted to himself. She was almost