The Night Crew

come through, I’ll tell you. Otherwise, just shoot it down.’’
    ‘‘What’re you going to do?’’
    ‘‘I’m gonna kill this sonofabitch.’’
    ‘‘How?’’
    ‘‘I don’t know,’’ she said, her voice deadly. ‘‘But I’m going to.’’
    She moved out of the bathroom into the office, groping her way in the dark. She could hear the car engine running in the background—and then suddenly, it stopped.
    And the voice:
    ‘‘I killed the guy, didn’t I?’’
    ‘‘Get the fuck away from here,’’ Anna screamed. ‘‘Get away from me.’’
    He wasn’t coming in—he was staying outside, and the next time he spoke, his voice came through a window in the back.
    ‘‘I don’t see anybody. I don’t see anyone.’’ Then from another window, maybe the bathroom window: ‘‘Where is everybody? Everybody else dead?’’
    Anna pushed further into the office room, found shelter behind a desk. Couldn’t see much: when it came to it, she thought, it might be whoever saw the other person first. Fifty-fifty.
    But he knew the place, and she didn’t.
    And now he was around in front. ‘‘Hey, Anna, come on out.’’
    ‘‘Get away from here,’’ she screamed. ‘‘The cops are coming.’’
    ‘‘You were trying to run away from me, weren’t you? You went down and got the car and you were all gonna run out of here, but something happened. And I know what it was. I hit the guy. I killed him. He’s dead, isn’t he? This is a thirty-ought-six, makes a big hole.’’
    His voice was working around to the side, now coming through a shot-out window behind her.
    She needed a set: a movie set. And a scene . . .
    ‘‘I’m coming in, Anna. I’m coming in. Bet you can’t guess where . . .’’ She moved to a corner of the room, pulled her knees up to her chin. She called softly, ‘‘Jake, can you hear me? Jake, can you hear me? Are you there?’’
    ‘‘He’s not there,’’ the voice said. ‘‘Jake’s dead. He’s a dead motherfucker, Anna.’’
    ‘‘What do you want from me? What do you want? Tell me,’’ she screamed.
    ‘‘All I wanted was the goddamn time of day, but you couldn’t even give me the time of day. You’d fuck all those other people, but you wouldn’t even talk to me. And you were like, you were perfect. You and me would’ve been perfect, but you wouldn’t even talk.’’
    ‘‘I didn’t even know you,’’ Anna shouted.
    His voice came from a different window, pitched lower. ‘‘I wanted to talk at the raid: you saw me at the raid, I was leading the raid, but you wouldn’t even talk to me then.’’
    Pause: then the voice from another window.
    ‘‘You saw me lead it, you wouldn’t even talk to the leader. I set the whole fucking thing up after that night at the club when I first saw you, so you could judge me in action, and you wouldn’t even talk. You just made fun of me with that pig. Which is dead, by the way. I cut that pig’s throat, God, it bled, it bled about a gallon . . .’’
    He was circling the house, speaking from one window, then the next, then skipping a window.
    From the back, now: ‘‘I was really disappointed,’’ he said. ‘‘And then at that golf place? When I’d set everything up, just you and me? And you did it again, you humiliated me— you humiliated me. What made you think you could get away with that? And now you’re going to pay, Anna. Just like that pig.’’
    Anna whispered harshly, ‘‘Jake, you gotta help me. Jake, I lost my glasses. Jake, I can’t see . . . where’s the gun? Jake?’’
    She heard him coming. She took her glasses off and put them in her pocket, and the world around her went soft. She pulled her knees up tight to her face, hunched her shoulders, pulled herself further back into the darkest corner of the room.
    Heard his footfalls.
    ‘‘Go away,’’ she cried. ‘‘Just go away . . . haven’t you done enough?’’
    ‘‘No.’’
    Now he was inside. Close. But she still couldn’t see him. She tried to pull back even further, pull her knees higher. ‘‘Go away,’’ she moaned. ‘‘Please, just let me alone.’’
    ‘‘Look at me, Anna. I’ve got a gun.’’
    ‘‘I can’t see,’’ she cried, ‘‘I can’t see anything, my glasses . . .’’
    A brilliant light cut across her face, just for an instant, and was gone.
    ‘‘Aw. Little girl can’t see?’’
    ‘‘Go away . . .’’
    He was coming in now, like a rat to a cheese. She was holding her