The Chaos Kind (John Rain #11)(120)

Dash, Dox thought. I knew it.

“Get out of my way!” Rispel screamed. “I’ll kill him! You know I will!”

Dox couldn’t see her. But Manus’s position and orientation must have meant she was trying to come this way. Maybe for a pickup by the Mountain Home entrance.

Manus sighted down the barrel of the gun.

Don’t, Dox thought. Manus, don’t. You need a brain stem shot or her trigger finger could twitch involuntarily. A rifle shot will cause more instant damage. And you don’t know that gun. You’re too invested. Just let her come this way. Trust me. Trust me.

“Last chance!” Rispel screamed. “Get out of my way!”

Manus’s nostrils were flared, his face a mask of hate. He tensed to take the shot—

No, no, no—

And then Manus’s arms shook, and he lowered the gun slightly. He grimaced and started to move away, seeming almost to have to drag his legs to get them to obey.

That’s right. Good man. I got this . . .

Evie screamed, “Let him go, you bitch!”

Come on, Rispel. You sore loser. You cheat. Come and get what you’ve got coming.

And then there she was. Rispel. She was holding Dash close, a pistol pressed to the side of his face, and jerking him from side to side, doing what she could to deny Manus and the people behind her a shot. They all must have had guns pointed at her.

Evie appeared at the edge of the trees, her expression terrified. Manus looked desperate. Dox didn’t know how much longer the man could hold back.

Rispel spun Dash left, then right. Maybe she wasn’t afraid of just Manus and the gang. Maybe she was wondering about Dox again, and whether she was heading into his crosshairs.

Ten feet beyond her was another stand of trees. He wasn’t going to have a surer shot than this. But damn it, it wasn’t sure enough. Still, he would have to risk the shot, or risk losing her entirely.

He focused on Rispel’s ear, but she jerked away. The base of her skull. Dox breathed out and started to ease back the trigger. Rispel spun and suddenly Dash was in the way.

And then Dash must have had enough of being whipped around like a rag doll. Because he lowered his head and clamped his mouth onto Rispel’s forearm. She was wearing a jacket, but it looked like Dash got something good between his teeth because Rispel howled and jerked her arm free. Dash slipped down a few inches. The muzzle of Rispel’s gun was off his face.

Dox fired. The top of Rispel’s head erupted in a cloud of brains and blood. Not the brain stem shot Dox had been hoping for, but with the gun off Dash, good enough for government work. In any event, Rispel didn’t get off a shot, involuntarily or otherwise. She half fell, half slid to the ground. Dash turned, and though Dox couldn’t be sure, he could swear the boy actually said something to her.

Evie and Manus raced in. Evie threw her arms around Dash. Manus paused to put another suppressed round into what was left of Rispel’s head, then wrapped his arms around both Dash and Evie. He looked toward the teahouse, tears running down his face. From where Manus stood he couldn’t see Dox, but Dox could of course see him. Manus nodded his head. Wiped his cheeks. And then mouthed the words thank you.





chapter

eighty-seven





RAIN


A half hour later, they were all in the horse trailer, parked in the far corner of one of the lots at a place called El Corte de Madera Creek Preserve, an enormous outdoor space seemingly popular with hikers, bicyclists, and horseback riders. Delilah and Larison were already waiting there in the Porsche when the rest of them arrived, and Rain had a feeling Delilah had finally gotten to drive it the way he knew she wanted to on the mountain switchbacks that led to the preserve.

Evie, who was driving the truck, parked in the second-to-last space at the end of the lot. Delilah pulled the Porsche around next to it, so that it was concealed by the trailer on one side and the towering trees of a pine forest on the other. The trailer was congruent here, but Rain was concerned that at some point Larry the guard might describe the Porsche to the police. Still, Rain had explained to Grimble that the less the police knew, the more likely it was that the world—aka Sekigahara—would be left in peace.

“You might want to make sure the guards understand that, too,” Rain had said. “And even pay them a bonus for a job well done.”

Kanezaki placed a satellite hotspot near a window, and Maya and Evie worked on Grimble’s laptop. A lot of it was technical, but everyone understood the purpose: have Grimble’s cloud decoders choose their own impossible-to-guess passcodes, leaving the system technically intact but functionally useless.

There was a lot of backslapping in the small space, as there always was after a successful mission with no losses. Dash was watching Maya and Evie at work, seemingly fascinated by their easy camaraderie. He was a resilient kid, tough and smart. And maybe a little too fascinated by all the derring-do he had just witnessed, and been part of. But Rain supposed everyone has a destiny.

Dox waved to get Dash’s attention. “How are you doing there, son?”

Dash came out from behind Evie and Maya, and Manus adjusted his position so he could see Dox’s face, too.

Dash said, “I’m good,” simultaneously signing so Manus could follow both sides of the conversation.

“I could be wrong about this,” Dox said, “but did you say something to Rispel back there?”