Homicidal By Design [Hector Escaton]

Chapter 5

"Look out!"

Without hesitation, Hector turned to check behind him. A single shot rang out, and the next three minutes seemed to stretch on for an hour.

Craig looked down at his pistol in shock and awe, Lori close behind to congratulate him on finally using it for something. Izzy's eyes were trained on the host in front of her. He had turned back to her and was regarding her with an odd expression.

"Hector?" she ventured, walking closer. Her concern immediately manifested an acidic feeling in her stomach.

For a precious moment, Izzy thought that Craig had actually missed Hector completely. As she stared him down, the host attempted a reassuring smile, but the expression was hauntingly disconnected. Without looking away from her, he touched the side of his neck.

"Hector?" Izzy called again, dread creeping over her fleeting hope as he pulled his hand away and looked down at it in a daze. She had said his name more to soothe herself than to get a response.

To her horror, a stream of blood pumped out of his neck in earnest. The bullet could easily have nicked his jugular. If that was the case... well, she didn't have time to consult WebMD, but knew he would have only minutes before bleeding out, if that.

Hector's shoulders slumped and he dropped to his knees, holding his hand to his neck. The action was futile as his blood pressure plummeted, and swaying slightly, he tipped forward. He would have fallen off of the porch, but Izzy's reflexes kicked in and she lunged forward.

Despite rather ungracefully tripping on her underskirt and bearing the brunt of a large, deadweight man, she had at least kept him from hitting the dirt. Another succession of shots rang out close by, followed by breathy laughter.

Craig said her name, and Izzy was vaguely aware that he was talking to her, but she ignored him. Not for the sake of ignoring him, but because her brain just tuned him out. Everything was a garbled mumbling in the background as her mind distilled her thoughts—only the crucial were given notice.

Rolling him on to his back with considerable effort, Izzy propped him up on her knees and held the wound as tightly as she could to staunch the bleeding. "Hector? Hector stay with me. Can you hear me?"

At first, his chest jerked and his throat moved spasmodically, his eyes open, reflecting shock and pain that burned into Izzy's mind. She even thought he had tried to reach for his neck once more, but lacked the energy to. Grabbing his gloved hand, she gave it a slight wiggle. Unexpected tears burned the back of her eyes when his fingers closed around hers weakly.

Over the years working law, Izzy had seen human suffering; she had fought for victims of genocide, human trafficking, and numerous other crimes all over the world. The emotions playing across Hector's face were indistinguishably human, and she couldn't bring herself to treat the situation any differently.

In the back of her mind, Izzy realized that her skirt and sleeves were becoming saturated with blood. But it was of no concern as the host's body made fewer and fewer movements. Under her hand the pulse was slowing rapidly, and along with it, the flow of blood. His eyelids drooped.

Leaning over him, Izzy pet his face gently. She pushed the hair from his face and blew on his sweaty forehead in an effort to give him some small comfort, but it may have been more to calm herself. Izzy had no fucking idea. She did not sign up for this shit.

"Hector?" Izzy whispered. She choked back a startled sob as realization washed over her. His eyes were closed and his head tilted to the side as if he were sleeping. Only the grey ashen complexion speckled with blood gave away the host's state. His hand was no longer holding hers.