Page 138 of Shatter

Desmond lets go of my arm.

His hand comes out of his jacket with a small black pistol in it. He points it at my brother and pulls the trigger without changing his expression at all.

The shot is enormous in the tight hall.

Pierce jerks backward.

He looks down at his chest, at the dark spot spreading across the navy fabric, and then he looks up at me with his mouth open like he's about to ask me something.

His knees fold.

I scream.

Somewhere outside the building, a roar goes up, engines, dozens of them.

Glass explodes at the far end of the plant, and somebody starts shouting.

Laurent's head turns toward the noise.

For one second, maybe just half a second, and it's enough.

Hakon moves.

I don't see his hand go to his boot.

I see Laurent's gun swing wide and a flash of steel.

Laurent folds over with a wet, choked sound, his pistol clattering across the concrete.

Desmond's hand is still on the back of my neck.

His fingers dig in hard now, not gentle anymore, dragging me against him, turning me between himself and Hakon.

His gun comes up past my ear.

This hand isn't his.

I stomp down on Desmond's instep with every ounce of weight I've got.

He grunts, and his grip slips an inch.

I twist my head and sink my teeth into his wrist, biting down until I taste copper.

He howls, and his hand tears away from my neck.

I drop.

I hit the concrete on my hands and knees, and I don't stop. I crawl. I scramble across the frozen floor toward my brother lying on his back by the wall.

Behind me, Desmond is shouting my name, and a gun goes off.

I don't look back.

I get to Pierce and put both hands flat on his chest, over the dark wet spot, and press, the way Vail pressed on my arm the night of the parking lot.

Warm.

His blood is so warm after all the cold, pumping up between my fingers.