Part 41 (1/2)

Pen backed away from her.

'I'm gonna cut you up. I'm gonna cut up that gorgeous face for you. I'm gonna cut off your precious t.i.ts. Then we'll see, won't we? Think Bodie's gonna want you then? Do you? Huh?'

The wall stopped Pen's retreat. She flicked the safety off. 'Just stop.'

'No, no, no, not me.'

Pen pulled the trigger. The shotgun jerked in her hands. Its roar blasted her ears. A circle of ceiling beyond Melanie's head exploded away. White dust and chunks of plaster fell.

Melanie grinned. Taking one more step, she gripped the muzzle with her left hand and pressed it to her chest. 'Go ahead, sister. Try again.'

'Mela for G.o.dsake!'

Glancing past Melanie's shoulder, she saw Bodie on his hands and knees, trying to get up.

The barrel flew upward, thrust high by Melanie. In disbelief, Pen saw her sister duck beneath it and drive the knife at her chest. She lurched sideways. A hot streak burned across the skin under her left breast. She rammed out with an elbow. It caught Melanie in the armpit, knocking her out of the way. But she still held the shotgun. She wrenched it from Pen and hurled it to the floor.

Pen shoved herself off the wall. She tried to dodge past Melanie, hoping to regain the gun, but Melanie rushed ahead to block her way. And slashed. Pen dropped back as the blade whipped across her belly. It snagged and ripped her loose sweats.h.i.+rt, but missed her skin. Whirling around, she ran for the bedroom door.

Melanie's feet pounded the carpet close behind her. They stayed behind her as she raced along the corridor.

'You've had it!' Melanie yelled. 'You've had it!'

At the top of the stairs, Pen grabbed the newel post and swung herself around it.

She was three steps down when she was. .h.i.t. She cried out, more in alarm than pain, as the blade went in. The impact threw her forward. Her feet left the stairs and she flew headlong toward the bottom.

Bodie staggered across the bedroom, each step wracking him with pain as if pliers were squeezing his t.e.s.t.i.c.l.es. He bent over, groaning, and picked up the shotgun. His ears still rang from the blast.

Lurching through the doorway, he swung to the left. The corridor was empty. He heard footsteps on the stairs, but saw no one. The wall blocked his view for a few yards. Then it ended, and he threw himself against the railing of the balcony over the living room.

Melanie, knife raised overhead like a madwoman, was charging down the stairs. Pen was at the bottom, scrambling away on her knees and one hand. Her right forearm, bent at an odd angle, looked broken. The back of her sweats.h.i.+rt had a slick oval of blood.

'Mel!' Bodie yelled.

She didn't stop. She was halfway down the stairs.

Pen, now on her feet, stumbled toward the foyer, her broken arm flapping.

Bodie jacked a sh.e.l.l into the shotgun chamber.

Melanie, hearing the noise, looked over her shoulder.

'Stop!' he cried out.

He peered down the sighting ramp. The bead at the muzzle's end wavered back and forth across Melanie's neck. He noticed her choker. A memory flashed through his mind of the time in bed when she was naked except for one of those chokers and he started to take it off and she clutched her ears to hold her head on.

His finger eased its pressure on the trigger.

'Just stay put!' he ordered. 'Don't move! Drop the knife!'

Her head turned away.

Bodie s.h.i.+fted his eyes to the right. Pen was at the front door, pulling it open.

Melanie looked back at him, then at the door again.

'Don't!' he shouted.

She raced down the stairs.

Bodie tracked her with the shotgun, knowing that a hit would probably kill her, hating to kill her, wondering if Pen had enough headstart, then swinging the muzzle well ahead of Melanie and firing. The shotgun leapt and kicked his shoulder as the blast slapped his eardrums. The front door, left ajar by Pen, crashed shut as the pellets punched through its bottom.

He ran for the stairway, grimacing each time a foot landed and sent a new shockwave of pain from his t.e.s.t.i.c.l.es.

Melanie reached the front door at the same moment as he started down the stairs.

Running had hurt, but pounding his way down the steps was glaring white agony.

Melanie threw open the door and dashed out.

Bodie worked the pump-action. The spent sh.e.l.l tumbled away.

He leaped down the final three stairs, crying out as his feet struck the floor and pain exploded through his body. He hobbled across the foyer and out the front door.

Melanie, her white blouse a pale bobbing target, was halfway across the dark yard. The dim, running shape of Pen was not far ahead of her.

When Pen reached the closed gate, Melanie would get her.

No question.

'Stop!' Bodie shrieked, shouldering the gun.

What if some of the pellets go past her and get Pen?

He aimed at the center of Melanie's back. His finger tightened on the trigger.

Pen was one stride from the gate.

The gate crashed open, smas.h.i.+ng her, hurling her aside.

A man charged into the yard, hunched over as if he had just thrown a body-block against the gate. He straightened up abruptly as Melanie, not changing course to fall upon Pen, flew at him.

Harrison.

Harrison had raped Pen.

Bodie held fire.

The man put out both hands to stop Melanie. He yelled, 'Hey!' Then she hit him, driving the knife into his chest as the force of her impact carried him backward to the walkway. Melanie dropped on top of him.