The thunderous roar of Cooper’s shotgun filled the air once more. Not knowing the weapon held only six shells, the woman gave it another pump, raised the weapon and pulled the trigger.
The explosion that followed was unlike anything Collins had heard before. Light blossomed all around them. Trees cracked, as a mighty wind blew past. They were protected by the brick house, but she could feel the heat. The sound that followed shook her insides and sent her head spinning anew. She knew the explosion had come from the distant battle with the Kaiju, but she watched as Gordon reacted as though he’d been shot.
He fell to the side, stumbling until his head collided with the burning car. He dropped to the driveway, clutching his chest. But the effect was short lived. His eyes snapped open and turned skyward. She couldn’t see what he was looking at, but he wasn’t pleased.
As Gordon got back to his feet, Collins looked for Endo, but the man was gone. “What the...?” Had she hallucinated him? Was he a side-effect of a concussion?
Doesn’t matter, she decided. He was gone. And Gordon wasn’t. She dug into her pocket, searching for her last speed loader. As her fingers slid over the bullets, her mind cleared, and she realized she no longer held her gun. With blurred vision, she searched until movement caught her eye.
Gordon stood, one hand resting on the smoldering car. Whatever that explosion was, it had hurt him somehow. A series of nine more explosions reached her ears, though none compared to the first. But with each distant concussion, Gordon twitched.
It’s the Kaiju. He’s feeling what it feels.
The information, while interesting and pertinent, did nothing to help her current situation, and it would likely die with her.
A grinding sound turned her eyes to the driveway. Her revolver slid across the pavement and stopped against her boot. The hell? She bent, snatched up the weapon and nearly passed out. Fighting the wave of darkness that filled her vision, she leaned against the wall, fumbling with the speed loader.
When her vision cleared, Gordon was lumbering for Cooper, all of the anger still in his face, but some of the energy missing from his movements. Watson joined Cooper, standing guard, the pair now inseparable.
Run, Collins thought. Run, you idiots.
A blur of motion kept her from expressing her thoughts. A black-clad man leapt from the hood of the burning car, landing on Gordon’s back. Endo. In the flesh. The man drove both hands to the sides of Gordon’s head. The snap, snap, snap, of an electric taser joined the sound of Gordon’s pain-filled scream. The whir of a drill came next. Collins squinted, trying to see better. Was Endo drilling a hole in the side of Gordon’s head?
If he was, he never got to finish. Gordon reached up, caught hold of Endo’s clothing and hauled him off, throwing him twenty feet through the air. Endo landed on the estate’s green grass, rolling back to his feet like the whole move had been choreographed.
Gordon’s hand went to the side of his head, feeling the freshly drilled hole. He seemed as confused by it as Collins was. Fearlessly, Endo charged Gordon, shouting at Collins. “Keep him busy!”
She was about to ask how, when she noticed she had finished loading her revolver. The idea of working with Endo, a killer they couldn’t convict, irked her. The man had an ulterior motive for being there. Collins had no doubt about that. But Watson’s and Cooper’s lives were at risk. She would take any help she could get.
Walking unsteadily, Collins raised her gun and fired. The shot missed, and she nearly dropped the high caliber weapon, but each step forward increased the blood flow to her head, clearing her thoughts and her vision. Gripping the weapon with two hands, she adjusted her aim and fired again, striking Gordon in the side of the head, which whipped toward her in response.
Distraction achieved.
Endo leapt into the air, moving fast. He extended a leg and delivered a brutal kick with his heel, just as Gordon faced him again. The big man’s already squashed nose bent further inward with a crunch, but nothing more happened. Endo simply bounced off and fell to the ground. Gordon roared—really roared—and swept downward with both arms.
Endo was too quick. He dove forward and rolled between Gordon’s legs. Then he was up and leaping onto Gordon’s back again. There was no zap of a taser this time, but he thrust a small drill against the side of Gordon’s head again.
Gordon thrashed about, but Endo held on, grunting as he shoved the drill deeper.
Then things changed.
Gordon grew weak. He yelped in pain. Shrunk in on himself. Fell to his knees and pitched forward, gritting his teeth against some unseen pain. Endo never let up. He kept pushing that strange drill into the side of Gordon’s head. And then it happened.