You broke into mine first. He fired. The shot cracked against the wall inches from my ear. I dove behind the overturned couch. Plaster rained from the ceiling. The generator outside began coughing. It was starting to choke on the sugar I’d poured in earlier. The lights flickered harder now, pulsing like a dying heartbeat.
Felix was dragging himself toward Victor, moaning. “Dad, we got to get out, but Victor wasn’t listening.” He fired again. Then again, the pistol clicked dry. I rose from behind the couch, calm. Each step I took toward him echoed between the slowing thuds of the engine outside. He threw the gun at me.
It bounced off my vest. “You think you can erase me?” he snarled. “You think people like me ever disappear? I’ve run this town for 30 years. Men like me don’t fall. We build the walls the law hides behind. You’re right, I said softly. But walls fall faster when the fire starts inside. He swung at me with his empty hand. I caught his wrist midair and bent it backward.
