Final Breath by Kevin O'Brien Read Free Book Online

Something kicked in--maybe anger, maybe a survival instinct. Whatever it was, she suddenly grabbed that teapot by the handle and flung it at the tall man's face.
    She was close enough to hit her stationary target dead-on. The lid flew off just as the pot struck his cheek. He let out a startled howl. Scalding tea splashed his face. It must have burned his eyes, because he dropped the gun and immediately covered his eye sockets. Staggering back, he spewed a stream of obscenities--between loud, high-pitched, agonizing shrieks.
    Before the stocky guy seemed to realize what was happening, Jared shot out of the booth and rammed into him. The body blow sent him careening toward the broken fish tank. They tipped over chairs and tables in their path.
    Meanwhile, Leah snatched up the tall thug's revolver. She almost slipped on the wet floor, but caught her balance. The tall man wasn't so lucky. He blindly staggered around the dining room until he tripped over a chair. He fell down on his knees.
    Leah aimed the gun at him, but hesitated before pulling the trigger. He was incapacitated, defeated. The guy couldn't hurt anyone now.
    But apparently, the waitress didn't feel that way. Wiping her tears, the delicate young woman picked up a chair and cracked it over his head.
    The man collapsed on the wet floor. A couple of fish struggled and splashed around him in the thin layer of water.
    "Son of a bitch!" bellowed the stocky thug--over the clatter of dining room furniture.
    Leah swiveled around in time to see him punch Jared in the face. His fist connected with Jared's eye. He staggered back from the blow, but didn't collapse. Wincing, Leah aimed the gun at the big man, but Jared charged him again. Jared slugged him in the gut--a sucker punch.
    The chubby man reeled back and grabbed the top of the shattered fish tank to steady himself.
    Suddenly, the lights flickered again, and the big man froze. His mouth opened in a silent scream. He started to shake violently as the electric currents raced through his body. Sparks arced out from where he clutched the top of the fish tank.
    Jared started to back away. Leah reached out to her fiance, touching his shoulder. He turned and wrapped his arms around her. Clinging to each other, they tried to catch their breath. But they couldn't yet.
    Only a few feet in front of them, the thug stood with his hand seared on top of the fish tank. Spasms racked his body. He wouldn't stop twitching and convulsing, and yet that stunned expression seemed stuck on his oafish face. His skin turned red. Smoke enveloped his feet.
    Leah heard a hissing, sizzling sound. It could have been the electrical charges making that noise. Then a new pungently sweet odor wafted through the dining room--just as the stocky man teetered and fell facedown to the floor.
    Leah stared at his corpse, and realized what she'd heard--and what she still smelled.
    It was human flesh cooking.
    Six months later
    "With wedding bells and jingle bells on their minds, a Portland, Oregon, couple, Jared McGinty and Leah Dvorak, stopped by their favorite Thai restaurant one night last December for a late dinner. They were making wedding plans..." The anchorman punctuated this lead-in with a dramatic pause. The program was On the Edge , a prime-time TV newsmagazine. The handsome newscaster, with a tan and premature silver hair, was Sloan Roberts, recently voted one of People Magazine's Ten Sexiest Bachelors.
    This was a rerun. The man watching the TV program in his Portland hotel room had seen this episode about Jared and Leah before--shortly after the incident had happened, six months ago, around Christmastime. Still, his eyes were riveted to the TV.
    The screen-within-the screen just to the right of Sloan's shoulder bore the words: Movers & Shakers . Appropriately enough, the letters in these words kept shaking and twitching.
    "Jared and Leah had no idea they were about to come face-to-face with death," Sloan continued--in an ominous tone. "On this week's