Marcus makes a quick movement; it seems like he flicks out his elbow. From my vantage point, I don’t see it hit anything, but I hear a crunching noise.
Enormous no longer is getting up, in fact he sits back down in the same position he was in before, back against the wall. The only difference is that he is no longer conscious, which is fine with me. He’s actually more fun to be with this way.
There are two windows in the front of the building, and they are shaded so that one cannot look in from the outside. But there is the chance that someone inside has seen what transpired, and Marcus seems to take that into consideration. Rather than knock on the door, he puts his ear to it, listening.
I don’t hear anything, because my heart is pounding so loudly that it’s hard to hear over it. Marcus seems to hear something, though, because he hesitates, as if trying to figure out his next step.
As steps go, it turns out to be a beauty.
Marcus kicks forward and up, and it’s amazing to watch. His foot hits the door so high, it’s actually over his head, yet he doesn’t seem to launch himself in the air to do so, and he maintains perfect balance coming down. The Rockettes have never kicked that high, and I hate to use this word describing Marcus, but they’ve also never looked so graceful.
It is as if the door explodes, crashing forward, leaving an empty space where there once was a door. We move forward, following Marcus, as he steps on the fallen door into the room.
As I also step on the door, it seems unsteady, and I realize with some horror that there is a person under it. I know that because I can see a foot sticking out, and a voice obviously attached to that foot is screaming in pain.
Marcus steps on an area that sounds like where the voice might be coming from, and the voice stops. It is only then that I actually look into the room, and it is nothing like what I expected. It’s modern, with chrome office furniture, and artwork on the walls. It all seems so out of place that I feel like we stepped into a different dimension by accident.
Tommy Haller is sitting at a desk; I recognize him from photos. If he’s upset by what he’s witnessed, he’s not showing it. “You Marcus Clark?” he asks.
I assume he isn’t talking to Laurie or me, but Marcus doesn’t seem interested in answering, so I fill the breach. “In the flesh,” I say. “He’s a personal friend of mine; we’re very close.”
Haller doesn’t look at me; he can’t seem to take his eyes off Marcus. “I heard of you,” he says. Then, maybe thinking we hadn’t understood, or were questioning the veracity of his statement, he repeats, “Yeah, I’ve heard of you.”
“Great,” I say. “That makes us all feel closer. Let’s talk about Pete Stanton.”
Haller continues to ignore me, reminding me in the moment of every girl I went to high school with. He stares at Marcus, while slowly reaching into a drawer and taking something out. It’s a gun, which would not have been my first choice of things to come out of that drawer. For example, I would have preferred M&M’S.
He points the gun at Marcus, who does not seem to consider this a negative development, or a positive one. “You know what this is?” he asks Marcus.
Suddenly there is a loud firecracker sound, and the gun goes flying out of Haller’s hand and onto the floor. He looks as stunned as I am, which is way up on any stun-o-meter that might be measuring the event. We both look to the other side of the room, where Laurie is holding her own gun, and pointing it at Haller.
There’s no other conclusion to be reached other than she literally shot the gun out of Haller’s hand, a feat the Lone Ranger would be proud of.
“The next one goes in your head, asshole,” she says. Laurie, if I haven’t mentioned this before, is not to be confused with a delicate flower.
At that moment, Enormous staggers into the room, having somewhat recovered from whatever Marcus did to him. He
Enormous no longer is getting up, in fact he sits back down in the same position he was in before, back against the wall. The only difference is that he is no longer conscious, which is fine with me. He’s actually more fun to be with this way.
There are two windows in the front of the building, and they are shaded so that one cannot look in from the outside. But there is the chance that someone inside has seen what transpired, and Marcus seems to take that into consideration. Rather than knock on the door, he puts his ear to it, listening.
I don’t hear anything, because my heart is pounding so loudly that it’s hard to hear over it. Marcus seems to hear something, though, because he hesitates, as if trying to figure out his next step.
As steps go, it turns out to be a beauty.
Marcus kicks forward and up, and it’s amazing to watch. His foot hits the door so high, it’s actually over his head, yet he doesn’t seem to launch himself in the air to do so, and he maintains perfect balance coming down. The Rockettes have never kicked that high, and I hate to use this word describing Marcus, but they’ve also never looked so graceful.
It is as if the door explodes, crashing forward, leaving an empty space where there once was a door. We move forward, following Marcus, as he steps on the fallen door into the room.
As I also step on the door, it seems unsteady, and I realize with some horror that there is a person under it. I know that because I can see a foot sticking out, and a voice obviously attached to that foot is screaming in pain.
Marcus steps on an area that sounds like where the voice might be coming from, and the voice stops. It is only then that I actually look into the room, and it is nothing like what I expected. It’s modern, with chrome office furniture, and artwork on the walls. It all seems so out of place that I feel like we stepped into a different dimension by accident.
Tommy Haller is sitting at a desk; I recognize him from photos. If he’s upset by what he’s witnessed, he’s not showing it. “You Marcus Clark?” he asks.
I assume he isn’t talking to Laurie or me, but Marcus doesn’t seem interested in answering, so I fill the breach. “In the flesh,” I say. “He’s a personal friend of mine; we’re very close.”
Haller doesn’t look at me; he can’t seem to take his eyes off Marcus. “I heard of you,” he says. Then, maybe thinking we hadn’t understood, or were questioning the veracity of his statement, he repeats, “Yeah, I’ve heard of you.”
“Great,” I say. “That makes us all feel closer. Let’s talk about Pete Stanton.”
Haller continues to ignore me, reminding me in the moment of every girl I went to high school with. He stares at Marcus, while slowly reaching into a drawer and taking something out. It’s a gun, which would not have been my first choice of things to come out of that drawer. For example, I would have preferred M&M’S.
He points the gun at Marcus, who does not seem to consider this a negative development, or a positive one. “You know what this is?” he asks Marcus.
Suddenly there is a loud firecracker sound, and the gun goes flying out of Haller’s hand and onto the floor. He looks as stunned as I am, which is way up on any stun-o-meter that might be measuring the event. We both look to the other side of the room, where Laurie is holding her own gun, and pointing it at Haller.
There’s no other conclusion to be reached other than she literally shot the gun out of Haller’s hand, a feat the Lone Ranger would be proud of.
“The next one goes in your head, asshole,” she says. Laurie, if I haven’t mentioned this before, is not to be confused with a delicate flower.
At that moment, Enormous staggers into the room, having somewhat recovered from whatever Marcus did to him. He
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