knee. You can duck your head out of the swing of a bat, swerve your body even. Moving a knee out of range is harder, and Hollis didn’t make it.
Supposed to have been a football star. Quarterback, offensive team captain and all. From a distance, he could maybe look like he was wearing the padding, but as soon as you saw him move the illusion would blow away like a puff of mist. And the pain of a smashed knee is a powerful distraction.
He lurched forward and my hand went fast and hard into the doughy flesh of his neck. His eyes popped wide open as I hit his windpipe, and his mouth froze as I squeezed it. It was tough to get purchase through all the flab but after a moment’s strain I heard the gristly crack as well as I felt it with my hand.
Waving his arms at me the dumb lunk was still trying to fend me off. He was dead but he was just too stupid to know it. The only questions now were, how long would he shake and convulse, and could I keep him quiet?
I had a grip on the bent remains of his windpipe and I pinched my thumb hard against my balled fist, snapping the pipe further and jamming it shut at the same time. His thighs shuddered and the gurgle started up in his throat.
His jaw flapped and his arms flailed, impotently trying to beat me away. Like there was any point. Nothing would steer his course around now, he was headed for the big well. He just hadn’t adapted to it. I guess he didn’t know anything much from that point on.
Hidden in a pile of daddy’s money, this doughboy grew up never having to learn one sure thing, and now he was going to escape from his useless life with his learning cherry unbroken.
The club clattered when I dropped it to clamp his nose and mouth in my hand. His chest pumped air and he would have been making an awful squawk if I hadn’t wrecked his larynx. As it was, it was just a loud wheezing sound like a muzzled cow slipping into quicksand.
Still too noisy. I could have put a pillow on his face but it wouldn’t have done much good. Luckily I keep an eight inch spike for emergencies.
I let go of his nose and mouth and pulled the spike out from inside my jacket. It’s a hell of a whack to get it through the ear and into the brain. You need to be accurate, as the skull’s pretty thick around the ear.
The other problem is, you’d think that with an eight inch rod going into a man’s brain that he’s going to be dead right away. Turns out, it’s still amazingly likely that he can survive. Less likely if you give the spike a vigorous stir, though.
One moment Hollis was wheezing, waving his arms and writhing like a salmon in a net. One hard jab with the spike then a clockwise gouge later the light went out of his eyes. From then on Hollis was just waves of trembling and limp flesh.
If you’re unlucky with the spike, it’s pretty easy to hit a major blood vessel in the brain, then you’ve got a gusher. Fortunately I got it right with Hollis and he just let a out little dark crimson trickle into his ear. A piece of art, if I say so myself.
He fell onto his side on the wood floor, still twitching . That would go on for thirty seconds or more. The nervous system fights to resist the inevitable. At that point, though, Hollis had most definitely left the building.
We’d scoped out a silo by the farm buildings on the way into the little town. It would have been for Hollis’s intended victim, but it would do the job just as well for the man himself.
All that remained now was to clean up and then for the two of us to decide what to do about his gorgeously plump little wife.
Chapter Fourteen
I T WAS A comfort when Liam’s arm rested on my shoulder as he told me, “He’ll not bother you any more, Mrs Cullen.”
Declan sounded serious. “Only we weren’t expecting you back quite so soon.”
“I wanted to be sure and see you. Before you left.”
Liam said, “Ah, now we have a problem, Mrs Cullen.”
He came and stood close behind me. Close