Eye of the Sh*t Storm Jackson Ford (detective books to read txt) 📖

The ground is smouldering in a dozen places, actual flames in others. The sky above them is nothing but black clouds. But there are longer gaps between the lightning strikes now. Slowly, ever so slowly, they start to ebb.

Reggie keeps talking. “That’s it. Let it go.”

Annie lies sprawled on the ground a few feet away – Reggie has to force back a soft moan of horror when she spots her. She can’t be dead – it’s simply not an option. Reggie won’t let it happen.

Nic curls in a tight ball nearby – did he get hit too? But as Reggie watches, he gets unsteadily to his feet, flinching as a lone bolt strikes a short distance away.

“Nic,” Reggie says. “Just—”

She doesn’t get the rest out, because at that moment, Nic sprints past her. Heading right for the woman.

Reggie tries to yell at him no, the woman still has a grip on the bomb trigger. She can’t get the word out – her throat has locked up, horror freezing her in place.

The woman is up on one knee. Nic’s attempt to take her by surprise does not go well, because the Zigzag Man gets there first.

Reggie is expecting him to use his ability. He doesn’t bother. He uses Nic’s own momentum against him, grabbing the back of his shirt and hurling him forwards. Nic’s feet tangle up and he goes sprawling, grunting in pain.

Reggie keeps whispering, not daring to stop, until she realises that the boy is no longer listening. He’s gone completely limp.

Nic hauls himself upright, throws a wild haymaker. The Zigzag Man blocks it easily, then whips a cupped palm around and onto Nic’s ear.

Reggie’s seen the move before, in combat training. The pressure can pop the eardrum. Nic stumbles backwards, streaming eyes squeezed shut.

The Zigzag Man steps into his space, and lands a flat hand on Nic’s nose, which breaks with a sound that reminds Reggie of crunching ice cubes. Nic goes down hard, arms wheeling.

There are no more lightning bolts. No sound but the howling wind.

The woman straightens up, takes a shaky breath, and turns towards Reggie. The look in her eyes is pure fury. Rain plasters her hair to her forehead.

“It’s OK, baby.” The boy is beyond listening now, but Reggie doesn’t care – if she stops talking, she’ll crumble. “We’re going to fix this, don’t worry about it, you just stay with me.”

Somehow, Nic is still conscious. He reaches out for the Zigzag Man, trying to grab his ankle. The man sidesteps, barely glancing at Nic.

“Let me have them,” he says. There’s a wheedling, pleading note in the Zigzag Man’s voice that Reggie finds more horrifying than anything. Above his beard, his eyes are wild. Vicious. “Let me take them into my house. Let me hide them in the walls.”

“Program,” the woman spits. “Captain. Tournament. Disorder.”

“Please.” It’s a growl: an insane animal noise.

The woman steps between Reggie and the Zigzag Man, her voice suddenly urgent. “Photograph. Skeleton. Zigzag. Zigzag. Zigzag.”

He subsides, his face slipping into a perfect blank. A slave once more.

Reggie meets the woman’s eyes. “You can’t have him.”

In response, the woman simply bends down, hooks a hand under the boy’s armpit.

And with every ounce of strength she has, every inch of mobility her arm will give her, Reggie swings her modified knife at the woman’s throat.

She’d taken it out her pocket the moment she realised what Leo was about to unleash, hidden it under her body. Her fingers slotted in the rings built into the handle. The blade slashes through the air, and Reggie knows, knows, that it will find its target. The woman underestimated her, and Reggie’s going to make her pay.

The woman snaps her left hand up faster than Reggie would have thought possible. She catches Reggie’s wrist, stopping the blade an inch from her throat.

“Really?” she says, contemptuous. “You thought that was going to work?”

Reggie would give anything to snap back at her: No. But this will. And then attempt something else, surprise her, knock her off balance…

But there’s nothing else. She has nothing left to try.

The woman plucks the knife from Reggie’s hand, almost tenderly slipping it off her fingers. Then she hurls it away.

Reggie tries to pull her arm back over Leo, but the woman stops her. She lifts the boy out, then stands, hefting his unconscious body. Leo’s legs are twitching badly now.

“We’ll find you,” Reggie says to the woman, knowing it’s not a good idea to provoke her, and not caring. Raindrops fall into her mouth, cold and somehow slimy. She spits them out, snarling. “Do you understand that? You are about to bring the wrath of God down on you and yours.”

The woman turns, and walks away. The Zigzag Man follows, like an obedient dog.

Reggie sucks in a deep breath. “You don’t get it. It’s like Annie said: there’s nowhere you can go.” She raises her voice, as loud as it will go. “It’s not just her contacts who’ll come after you. Every special forces squad, every investigator, every single intelligence operator employed by the US government: they are all going to be looking for you. There’ll be nowhere left to run.”

“We don’t have to run,” the woman says over her shoulder. “We won’t even have to hide for much longer.”

She lifts the bomb trigger, glances at it. Then casually, almost as an afterthought, tosses it away.

FIFTY-FOURTeagan

“Teggan!”

The voice reaches me from what feels like a very long way away. Another galaxy, maybe. Or from the afterlife.

“Teggan! Under you!”

I don’t know how I do it, but I get my eyes open. Turn my head. Still not convinced what I’m hearing is real.

The flood is still being held at bay, although that’s going to change in maybe five seconds. The concrete slab I’m on is now twelve or fifteen feet off the deck. And on the deck, wheels almost submerged in the rushing water…

The China Shop van.

With Africa sticking his head out the window. Yelling my name.

What in the name of fuck is