THE RED WAKE

Chapter 21 (Pt 2)

      Little charged Alan and tackled him to the floor. As the two men scuffled, each trying to gain leverage, Little wrapped his right forearm around Alan’s neck, attempting to put him in a chokehold. Through a blood-red haze, Alan saw that the other survivors were on their feet, yelling in each other’s faces. There was an almost audible snap! Then people were attacking each other. Panic flared bright in Alan’s mind even as red starbursts exploded before his eyes. The air was suddenly too thick, difficult to drag into his lungs. It hurt to breathe. Sound was muted, muffled. Everything seemed to slow down, people moving like  figures in a dream of savagery.

    Purnell Radhi grabbed Terry Wilson by the throat and was busily throttling the smaller man, while at stage- left, Alan struggled to free himself as Little’s forearm ground into his carotid artery. Fear of losing consciousness filled him with manic strength, and he bent, pivoted, his sudden shift in weight throwing Little over his hip, and slammed the bigger man to the floor. Little was up almost instantly. He stepped forward, a grimace stretching his lips.

     He was carrying a switchblade.

     “Show you how to fight, Uncle Tom,” Little growled. “Teach you to kick a man in the balls.” 

     Littl feinted and jabbed with the switchblade as Alan, fueled by adrenaline and the arcane energies of the Red Wake, dodged his attack. Around them, many of the survivors were attacking and killing anyone within reach.     

     Horgan stood center- stage, calmly presiding over the carnage. He shot one woman who'd stumbled too close to him. It was Mindy Winkler, the woman who had worried about her kids on Staten Island. 

     A scream from behind him drew Alan’s attention away from Little's attack. A man in the center aisle was grappling with Reed Maxwell. Then Duane Little drove the switchblade into Alan's shoulder. Alan screamed as Little twisted the knife and the blade grated against bone. 

     Terry Wilson had managed to leave Purnell Radhi dazed on the dusty floor. Now he launched himself over two men who were rolling around on the stage. He landed on  Little’s back as the tall man pulled the knife out of Alan’s shoulder. Little swung around, trying to dislodge the smaller man from his back even as the stage manager flailed wildly at Little’s face and head. Then he leaned in and bit the big man’s right ear. 

     Little screamed, “I’ll kill you! Kill all of you!!!”

    Ignoring the pain in his shoulder, Alan hit the auditorium floor running. One of the electricians was attacking Reed, bending her backward over one of the seats in the third row. Reed fought, scratching, clawing and punching at the man, but he was oblivious to her attempts to free herself, staring blankly into her face even as he gripped her throat and began to strangle her. Alan slammed his shoulder into Reed’s attacker, grabbed him by the shoulders and swung him away. As the technician fell, his head struck the back of one of the seats. He did not rise again. 

     “Get out!” Alan screamed into Reed’s face. 

     Reed nodded. Then she screamed and pointed to the stage. Alan turned in time to see Duane Little stab Terry Wilson, once, twice...a flurry of blows. Terry fell. Then Little turned and pointed the knife at Alan. The glare raging in his eyes felt like a glimpse into the inferno. 

     Then a shot rang out in the theater.

    Duane Little staggered forward, his eyes wide, as a blood erupted from his mouth. The front of his white shirt was stained with the blood flowing from the small neat hole directly over his heart. Then he dropped the knife and fell off the stage. Behind him, Eugenia Fredericks stood shaking, her tears streaking her face, a revolver trembling in her hands.