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"Don't talk to me about LIFE..."
Philm Phan was upon Bickle before he had a chance, and an expertly executed Judo-throw sent him spinning out the open door past her companion to slam against the opposite wall.
Masterless raised his shotgun and Nicky his Tokarev, but the man at the door sent them a diving for cover with a spray of bullets, yelping each time that he pulled the trigger.
Ms Phan was by my side trying to help me up, when her partner went down, struck from behind; Bickle, apparently, had recovered and smacked him from the side.
I heard a bellow and with a resounding crash, Bickle was smashed through the wall; lath and horsehair-impregnated plaster went everywhere. Through the hole stepped...Wulfgar. I know that I groaned audibly. The big .44 caliber nickel-plated Automag that he favored dropped in one hand. Masterless and Nicky opened fire on him, and by sheer luck, the pistol was knocked out of his hand, and a shotgun blast took him full in the chest, throwing him back against the wall.
Ms. Phan's hand was coming up, holding a broom-handle Mauser, but she found herself covered by Masterless's Ithaca.
"Don't Lady, I hate having to shoot women."
A gun barked, and Masterless fell; All heads snapped around and we saw Wulfgar, holding a snub-nosed .38 in his left hand. I could make out the ankle holster that it came from. He stood up unsteadily.
"Jesus H. Christ, what are you MADE of?" cried Nicky, hesitant about taking aim at this point.
Wulfgar shot him, by way of reply.
"You sonofabitch, what have you gotten me mixed up in THIS time?!? Why the hell aren't you dead?!?"
"Aye, Ah missed ye too, Richard." He winced, and pressed his chest."M' duster's soft body armour, wi' kevlar and ceramic plates. Still hurts. What the hells going on here?"
Christ, I've got two , maybe three, dead bodies in by livingroom."
"Nay, th' .38's loaded with mercy-bullets. I couldna reach anythin muir lethal." He scowled as he picked up the paper Bickle had dropped.
He grabbed the conscious bounty-hunter and shook him, hard. I swear that I heard broken bones grind together.
:"Aw-reet, y'fooker (shoving the flyer into his face), wha' means this?!?"
Bickle groaned- "Every (cough) Bounty-hunter in the state has (cough) one. Yer wanted, Baby." He smiled through broken teeth.
"Shite," Wulfgar shook him again, but Bickle had passed out from the pain, contorted grin still on his face.
"Wulfgar" said Ms. Phan, "we must away. Can you get Mr. Branagh? I can help Richard..."
I spat out, angrily "no, dammit, I'm not going anywhere. The police-"
"Will have a field day with this. You don't have any friends there, Richard. At least with us, you'll have a chance. On your own..." She let it trail off.
She had a point. I didn't want to admit it, but it was true. I tried to stand on my own, but felt darkness begin to enfold me, now that the adrenaline had faded.
(TBC)
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