More Poison in Your Coffee?

Chapter 22

              It sounded like lightening; or maybe an explosion. Then I heard the sound of something heavy falling to the hardwood and the gun hitting and sliding across the floor. My eyes snapped opened.

            Hey, this isn’t heaven. My hands frantically combed my body searching for wounds, and I saw to my utter relief that I was in fact not dead. Not even hurt. I looked up at the scene in front of me, shocked. It had all happened in a second.

            Earl was sprawled out on the floor, shaking with shock. Johnny was in front of me, standing where Earl had been. He’d run into the room, collided with Earl and thrown him off his feet. The gun had slid underneath the voluptuous skirt of Karalyn’s gigantic bed. Earl looked back at the two of us, then shuffled toward the bed an in attempt to retrieve the gun.

            I was still in shock, feet planted tightly to the floor when I felt Johnny’s hand wrap around my wrist. Without thought, warning, or word he dragged me almost completely off my feet and pulled me out the door and into the hall.

            Somehow my brain reconnected with the rest of me and I found myself struggling to keep up with Johnny’s hurried pace. As our feet shuffled rapidly on the carpeted floor of the hallway I heard the door behind me swing out and slam back against the wall.

            I dared to glance over my shoulder and saw Earl standing in the doorway; gun pointed this way; hell in his eyes. Another sudden explosion went off and I heard the definite sound of breaking glass above our heads.

            Johnny ducked down low and I followed suit, the two of us at long last reaching the stairs. Once we got to the bottom we could simply run through the pink room, through the foyer, and out the front door. All we had to do was keep running and avoid the bullets and we were home free.

            But as we were about half way down the stairs, Earl bounded up at the second floor and leaning over the banister fired again. A pop sounded loudly near me, and dusty bits of wood splintered off the banister and rained over my face; stinging my eyes.

            Another gunshot and suddenly Johnny cried out and the two of us plummeted the rest of the way down the stairs. Tumbling over each other we landed with a thud on the bottom floor. Johnny was doubled over, holding the side of his abdomen where blood was seeping through his shirt and trying desperately to keep moving.

            He moaned and fell over again. “You get out of here. I’ll only slow you down.”

            “Like hell.” Not wasting time I looked around, seeing to my horror that in the reachable vicinity of this anal retentive manor, there was nothing to grab for protection but an end table and the lone lamp that was illuminating the hall at the bottom of the stairwell. I heard Earl’s feet moving toward the stairs. Remembering Karalyn’s fondness for luxurious but dangerously old furniture, I kicked my leg out toward the table, and sent the lamp crashing to the floor just as another bullet went flying by.

            The room was abruptly bathed in complete darkness. God bless outrageously expensive but also delicate porcelain lamps. As silently as I could I helped Johnny to his feet and led him through the swinging door of the kitchen.

            “That was very clever, Miss Evelyn.” I heard Earl goad from the second floor.

            I looked around but could only make out the slightest shapes in the moonlit kitchen; the island, the counters, the stove. Goddamn it, no backdoor. I thought back to the day I watched Karalyn eat that pie. There were knives on the counter, but a gun beats a knife almost any day of the week. I didn’t have much time to consider as I could hear Earl walking softly around, searching the rooms close to this one.