Ruthless Creatures by J.T. Geissinger

deafening. I scream, purely on instinct, but don’t look back as
I tear through the house toward the front door.
When I’m five feet from it, a bullet whizzes past my head
and embeds itself in the drywall with a spray of plaster. I duck
and keep running, but another bullet goes straight through the
door. I dive to the floor, hearing Viktor roaring in pain, and
roll, slamming into the corner between the door and the wall.
Viktor is struggling to get Mojo to release his arm. Mojo’s
got him by the wrist of the hand that’s gripping the gun, which
is probably why his shots went wide and didn’t hit me. The
dog is growling furiously and yanking his head back and forth
hard, backing up to keep Viktor off balance.
But somehow, Viktor gets free.
He doesn’t bother wasting another shot at the dog. He
simply raises his arm and strides toward me, pointing his gun
at my face.
I raise my hands and scream, “Stop!”
Then there’s a thundering explosion of hot air and white
light, and Viktor’s head explodes like a ripe tomato.
Blood and brain matter spray the wall and ceiling.
What’s left of him topples face first to the floor, where he
lies, unmoving. Blood squirts from the severed artery in his
neck.
I sit stunned, not understanding what happened. I stare in
total disbelief at the dead man on my living room floor, until I
raise my gaze and see Kage standing across the room, holding
my father’s shotgun.
I guess he loaded it.
Happy birthday to me.