The Book of Death (Bourbon Kid 4)

guy. This time
would be different. With all the chaos and carnage going on outside there was a
feeling of finality about this situation. It would all end tonight.
Unfortunately at this point, the outcome was unclear. Either he would kill the
Bourbon Kid, or die trying.
    He kept his stare fixed on the
doors at the end of the hall. Any second now his nemesis could come storming
through those doors. For that reason, he was glad to have Tex with him. Tex
specialised in counterintelligence and would have every possible route into the
hall etched into his mind. From the obvious selection, the doors, right through
to the less obvious possibilities, like air vents, if there were any. And Tex
had his own reasons for wanting to kill the Kid. He wanted to avenge the death
of Silvinho.
    Bull concealed himself behind a
white concrete pillar on the left hand side of the huge hall. Tex was a few
yards behind him, tucked out of sight behind a large unsightly statue of a
centaur situated by the side of the flight of stairs that led up to the control
room where Razor was guarding Beth.
    Bull kept his gun pointed at the
doors. Every second felt like a minute as he waited for his enemy to arrive. He
only took his eyes off the doors momentarily to glance over at Tex. Tex was
checking all around him, his head constantly on the move. If anything or anyone
tried sneaking up on them, he would see it. The two men’s eyes met for a
fleeting moment. They’d shared looks like this many times over the course of their
careers. It was a look of trust and mutual respect. Bull turned his gaze back
on the doors, secure in the knowledge that he had his best man with him,
watching his back.
    Then in one horrible moment the
whole scenario changed. The entire hall was plunged into total darkness.
    Bull analysed the situation
immediately. Either the power had been cut or someone had switched off the
lights from within the hall. He listened carefully. Unfortunately the only
sounds were coming from far away. The undead war in the courtyard outside was
not relenting. But inside the main hall, things were very different. Nothing
moved. Nothing made a noise.  
    The lights had been off for
almost thirty seconds before he finally heard something. From behind him there
was a quiet slapping noise, followed by a muffled yelp. He swivelled around,
the toes of his boots turning on a dime. All he could see was pitch darkness.
He still knew his bearings. He knew exactly how far he was from every pillar,
every statue and every wall in the hall. But was Tex still with him?
    ‘Tex,’ he whispered loudly. ‘You
okay?’
    Tex did not respond. Bull was no
fool. He knew what that meant. Tex was most likely dead. That would explain the
muffled yelp. The Bourbon Kid was in the hall with them. In the darkness.
    Another sound broke the deathly
silence. It came from high above on the opposite side of the room. It sounded
like glass breaking. Two more almost identical sounds followed moments later,
from different areas of the giant hall. Bull had no choice. He had to get some
lights back on. On the wall behind him there was a light switch. He just had to
get to it before the Kid got to him. Drawing on much of the experience he’d
picked up working behind enemy lines, he moved silently across the floor with
his free hand outstretched until his fingertips touched the wall. He scoured
the smooth plastered wall, hoping to find the light switch. With his other
hand, he continued to point his gun out into the hall, his finger ready on the
trigger, itching to fire if he heard even the faintest sound.
    As soon as he felt his
fingertips brush against the light switch, he flicked it on. The room lit up,
the sudden brightness dazzling him for a split second. As his eyes grew
accustomed to the light he scoured the room for any sign of his enemy. The
first thing he saw was the body of Tex, slumped on the floor in a heap behind
the statue of the centaur. His neck had been broken. It only took a millisecond
for Bull to recognise that. He didn’t have time to dwell on it though. His eyes
continued scouring the room, moving at a million miles an hour. He could see
statues, staircases, pillars and all kinds of other things in the hall. But no
Bourbon Kid.
    He exhaled hard, suddenly
realising that he had been holding his breath for an unusually long time. As he
inhaled again, a shadow flashed before his eyes.
    It came from above.
    And just like that, the face of
the Bourbon Kid appeared right