An Evil Heart (Kate Burkholder, #15)(86)

“There you are,” he says.

I hear the toing! of the bow being fired.





CHAPTER 28


The world stops. A hard punch of terror. A sound escapes me as I spin. Pain slashes my left shoulder. The guitar-string whine of the bolt as it whizzes past. Then I’m running full out. Adrenaline pushing me. Arms outstretched.

“Mona!” I scream. “Graber! He’s armed!”

I pray she can hear me.

I plunge to the row on my left. Continue at breakneck speed. I don’t have to look to know Graber is reloading. A crossbow isn’t as fast as a rifle. But fast enough that I won’t be able to put enough distance between us to avoid being shot again.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see blood on my biceps. Pain throbs, but somehow, I don’t really feel it. A stalk cracks behind me. No time to look. I dodge left, plunge ahead. Running blind. Too fast. Don’t misstep. Don’t fall.

“He’s armed!” I shout.

I burst from the cornfield, in the backyard, running as fast as I can. I hear Graber behind me. Too close. I zigzag to make myself a more difficult target, but I’m not doing a good job of it. I feel the bull’s-eye on my back, like a neon light. Panic an inch away.

The toing! of the crossbow sounds. The bolt whirrs to my left, strikes the house. I veer right. Praying he can’t reload before I go around the corner of the house.

“Mona!” I scream. “Wayne Graber! He’s armed!”

Toing!

I reach the corner, dodge left. Scant seconds of cover. I fly toward the front of the house, tear around the corner. Mona’s cruiser ahead. She’s standing near the front door, beneath the portico, eyes on me. Speaking into her radio.

“Graber is armed!” I shout. “Behind me!”

I jam my hand into my pocket, fumble the key fob. Tunnel vision on the Explorer. Shotgun in the rear. Two seconds to reach it.

Toing!

Heat tears into my side. A branding iron against my ribs. Intense pain knocks me sideways. Not going to make it to my vehicle, but Mona is armed. My only hope. I pivot left, enter the portico. She’s rushing toward me, hand over her weapon, eyes fixed on a point behind me.

“Crossbow!” I scream. “Shots fired!”

As if in slow motion, I see her draw her .38. I see her mouth moving, but I don’t hear her voice. I glance left, see Graber flip out another bolt. His face is a mask of rage. A predator in the throes of a kill.

Mona raises her weapon. “Halt!” she screams. “Stop!”

Toing!

I hear the zing of the bolt fly past. Graber slows, grabs another from his pack.

“He’s reloading!” I shout.

Mona has assumed a shooter’s stance. Good form. Feet spread. Finger inside the guard. Eyes on her target. In that instant, a thousand years seem to pass.

Frozen, I realize.

A curse flies as I sprint toward her. “Get down!”

I plow into Mona, fling my arms around her hips, shove her backward, toward cover. I take her to the ground. Then I’m on top of her, clamber to my knees. Keenly aware of Graber thirty feet away. No cover between us.

I snatch Mona’s .38 from her hands. Fumble it. I bring it up and fire blind. Bam. Bam. Bam. Bam.

Graber’s legs buckle. He goes down. The crossbow clatters to the ground next to him. Clutching his abdomen, he yowls like a panicked cat.

I scramble to my feet. Vaguely, I’m aware of Mona doing the same. “Radio,” I snap.

“Shots fired!” She chokes out the address. “Shots fired! Ten-thirty-nine!” Lights and siren. “Ten-fifty-two!” Ambulance needed.

Her voice falls away as I approach Graber. He’s lying on his back, legs kicking out, heels digging in to gravel. Hands spread over his abdomen, blood seeping between his fingers. I’m aware of sirens in the distance as I kick the crossbow aside. I’m shaking violently, my hands and legs. I see blood on his shirt, more on his thigh. The slow pound of dread in my gut because I didn’t want this to happen.

His eyes are open and he’s looking at me. Mouth moving, but no words coming.

“Do not move,” I hear myself say.

Groaning, he lifts his leg, bending it at the knee, dragging his heel through the gravel. “You fucking … shot me.”

“Be still.” I kneel, pull the handcuffs from my belt. “There’s an ambulance on the way.”

“Chief?”

I glance over my shoulder to see Mona approach. She’s pale and shaking. “You okay?”

“I’m fine.” I capture Graber’s wrist with one of the cuffs. “Give me a hand.”

He groans when we roll him over. I cuff his other hand and leave him on his side.

“Um … Chief.” Mona motions to my uniform shirt. “You’re bleeding like crazy.”

The amount of blood on my shirt shocks me. For the first time, I acknowledge the pain streaking down my side, the burn in my arm. “Got me twice, I think.” A quiver of uncertainty runs through me even as I say the words.

“Maybe you ought to lie down,” she says.

“I’m okay,” I say. When she only continues to look at me, her expression worried, I add, “I’m fine.”

She tilts her head to her shoulder mike. “Ten-seven-seven on the ten-five-two?” she says, asking for the ETA on the ambulance.