Falling Light (Game of Shadows #2)(29)

“You’re a madman,” she muttered. “I’ve always known it, haven’t I? And I’m mad too for following you.”

“I gave you a choice,” he said. His gaze sparkled with brilliance.

She glanced in the direction of the Lake, toward the black thing that waited to wrap them tight in its tentacles and suck the life out of them. She said again, “We’ll do it your way.”

He smiled.

They stepped out of the alley. They walked west toward the Lake Street intersection and Petoskey’s municipal marina. The sidewalks were deserted. Once again, Mary had to trot to keep up with him.

The wind had increased to a ferocious velocity. Across the vehicle-lit highway she could see the wide stretch of lawn that was the park. Beyond that curved the vast shadowed bowl of Little Traverse Bay. The water foamed with high, white-capped waves.

They approached a tree that creaked audibly as the wind whipped its upper limbs back and forth. Mary eyed it with wariness as she walked past. Ahead she could see the stoplight where they would have to cross the street. She caught a glimpse of the white arm of the dock as it protruded into the bay.

As the first heavy drops of rain lashed down, she thought perhaps the storm was already beginning to help them. People had moved inside to shelter.

Hopefully any guards watching for them would have wanted to get out of the storm too, and would be less vigilant. Wouldn’t they?

All too soon she and Michael reached the intersection. They had to wait for the light to change to create a break in the constant flow of traffic. Michael squeezed her shoulders one last time before his arm slid away.

Feeling anchorless, Mary shifted from one skittish foot to the other as her nervous gaze darted over the brilliantly lit, moving traffic. A parking lot dotted with cars lay on the other side of the highway along with a building attached to the marina.

The light changed. Traffic rolled to a stop. Michael moved across the highway with the smooth, purring grace of a Porsche. She followed humbly, clutching her purse.

They reached the other side of the crossing. She noticed what she had forgotten to look for before. A railing and sidewalk led downward to the entrance to the lighted tunnel. She looked sideways at it as she caught the faintest echo of chittering. Humans weren’t the only creatures that guarded the tunnel that night.

“Mary,” Michael said in a conversational tone.

Her attention snapped to him. “Yes?”

“When the fighting starts, I want you to move to the slips. Pick out a boat and wait for me there.”

“All right, but I’ve got to warn you, I don’t know anything about boats.”

“Just pick one that seems big and fast,” he said casually over his shoulder. “If it looks racy, it probably is.”

She nodded, although he was already four feet ahead of her and picking up speed.

Heavy clouds lit with lightning. Moments later, the rumble of thunder reached her ears. The rain started to fall more heavily. In the glow of the street lamps, the air was filled with streaks of silver.

Michael reached into his backpack, pulled out a bulky ammunition belt and slung it over his neck and one shoulder. Then he drew out his knife sheath and belt and buckled it to his waist, all while he walked in a fast, ground-eating stride toward the parking lot and building.

Last he pulled out his semiautomatic. He held it in one strong, muscle-corded hand, nose pointed to the ground. He let the backpack fall to the ground and broke into a run.

Four men appeared around the end of a nondescript van. The increasing rain obscured visibility, but she thought they were uniformed policemen. They started to pull their guns.

Michael whirled. He threw a black missile with such force it shattered one of the van’s windows. Then in the same seamless, balletic movement, he spun until he faced the building adjacent to the parking lot. He sprinted headlong for the nearest wall.

Mary watched as he ran up the side of the building and disappeared onto the roof.

She blinked, feeling slow and stupid with surprise.

Did she just see what she thought she saw?

Her footsteps brought her beside the backpack Michael had dropped where she came to a stop.

The men by the van finished pulling their weapons. They shouted to one another and began to run. They were all much slower and clumsier than Michael.

Her astonished gaze traveled from them back to the roof of the building. She felt like she had just been transported into a John Woo movie.

The van exploded.

A fireball enveloped two neighboring cars. The concussion knocked the men off their feet.

A scant fraction of a second later, a fast-dissipating blast of hot air slammed into her. She staggered, more from shock than anything else.

Michael said in her head, Mary. Get to the boat slips NOW.

She nodded. As if he could see her. Idiot. She bent to pick up the backpack he had dropped.

A fresh burst of chittering broke out behind her, sounding like nothing so much as a flock of disturbed bats bursting from a cave. She looked back at the tunnel. A man, dressed in black, raced toward her.

Whoops. She bolted.

Someone shouted. In the parking lot, the frames of three cars boiled with heat and light. The men struggled to their knees. A short, staccato burst of gunfire sounded from the roof, then another. The men in the parking lot fell again and didn’t move. She threw a glance over her shoulder. The man chasing her had fallen to the ground as well.