Miss No One by Mark Ayre (interesting books to read TXT) 📕

When he fired, the weapon was still next to Ana. She felt the searing heat through her top as she stumbled. As she fell, she raised her leg and kicked.

Weakened by a car explosion, a rifle shot to the ear, a knife to the neck (and he called Ana immortal), the shotgun's recoil at this final shot was enough to knock Winston off balance. He staggered, and his legs hit the railing. The metal bar would have saved him had Ana's kick not supplemented the wasted shot's buck.

He teetered, tried to grab Ana's foot, but it was already gone. Then he tipped past his centre of gravity and felt the drag and the rush of air as he tumbled over the edge and crashed to the ground below.

Abbie watched Orion scuttle around the back of the cars and kept her gun raised. How many shots left? She wasn't sure and couldn't check. She'd know when she pulled the trigger. Maybe she'd hear the impotent click of an empty chamber. That would likely be the end.

Some way behind, Abbie could hear Isabella sobbing. When Orion had fired the shot that counted, Abbie had felt it whistle past and had seen Ndidi drop in her peripheral. She had no idea how bad the damage was—if Ndidi would live—but she could not help but feel relief at the sound of Isabella's sobbing. She didn't tend to find happiness in small children's grief, but with Isabella, sobbing meant life. If Abbie could kill Orion, the kid would be okay.

"What's the plan?" she called to the cars as she circled them. She could see Orion moving around the cars as she did but wouldn't risk another speculative shot. "How long can you keep this up? No one's coming to save you, and you have no one left to save. You can't get into the cars, or you would have already. You've lost your leverage. You have to see it's finished."

Through the last couple of days, Abbie had considered Orion to be an intelligent man, and he had been. But Abbie had peeled away everything that made him human. An animal remained. Orion was nothing beyond survival instinct.

That could mean this final stand drew out far too long. Abbie wanted it done and thought she knew how to achieve her goal.

It would take her reminding Orion he was human. She had to encourage an emotion to break free of its shackles and to overtake the survival instinct. She had to turn flight into fight.

Still circling the car, Abbie said, "This was always going to end the same way. The moment I realised who I was dealing with, I knew I'd end up killing you. When I learned you were springing Rachel from prison, I was relieved. Behind bars, she was a danger; in setting her free, you guaranteed her demise at my hands. That shot to her chest and the next to her head were inevitable. I have to thank you for making it possible."

A low, guttural growl emitted from behind the SUV. Abbie stopped. The sound told her exactly where Orion was. She aimed at where he would emerge if emotion trumped what remained of his rational thinking.

"You might be surprised to learn how long I've known of the Becker family. Ever since I first came across your lot over half a year ago. Ever since I bumped into Margaret Becker in the stairwell of a block of flats where her enemy was hiding." Abbie paused. Dramatic effect was so important.

"You know, the day an unknown assailant shot her dead like a dog."

The growl became a roar, and Orion burst free of the SUV, firing a wild shot that whizzed past Abbie.

He kept pulling the trigger but the cupboard was bare. Click, click, click. He didn't seem to notice. He had a blade and closed the distance between them with it high in the air, intending to end Abbie's life with a barrage of knife wounds.

Still pointlessly pulling the trigger, Orion got to within a metre of Abbie before she raised her gun, aimed for his head and fired.

No empty click for Abbie. The shot rang out. The bullet blasted through the air and hit Orion where another bullet had earlier hit Rachel: right between the eyes.

The eldest Becker child's head snapped back as his body continued to rush forward. Like a rag doll, he crumpled at Abbie's feet, dead eyes staring towards the clear night sky.

Abbie glanced up as well. It was a beautiful evening. The best thing about being away from the city was the ability to see the stars in the sky.

"There you go," she said, looking back to Orion. "Game over."

Forty-Two

By the time Ana reached the ground (and it took a while, what with the beating her body had taken and the overexertion of charging Winston), her shotgun-wielding assailant was still not dead.

Having landed on his back, he stared at the sky with his arms spread. His fingers twitched, his eyes moved from left to right to left to right, as though he was watching a tennis match. The knife remained in his neck, and blood leaked around it. When he saw Ana, his lips moved, and more blood spilt from them, but no words.

Ana still felt numb, hollow. That black hole inside had grown and grown. When all this was over, she wasn't sure how she'd feel. Would she come to terms with the lives she'd taken or struggle to handle the guilt? Would she collapse beneath the weight of what she'd done or thrive? Perhaps killing would become an addiction. She hoped not. Her mum still trying to deal with the burden of raising one psychotic daughter. She couldn't handle another.

When Winston had fallen over the edge, he had taken with him his shotgun. It had slipped from his grasp when he hit the ground and now lay just beyond his fingers. Leaning over with only