‘Ella.’ A false cheerfulness, like an old friend unexpectedly encountered.
Lucas spun around, reaching under his shirt for his gun. Where had he come from? Behind the stairs, maybe. He should have seen him and now it was too late. Ella turned at the sound of her name and the guy was right there, lifting his gun to her face.
Chris was at the elevator door, staring back in shock. Ella still had the quizzical look she’d worn on turning. Lucas could feel his own painfully slow movements, the gun seeming to snag as he pulled it free, and the other guy ready to shoot.
And then, as Lucas continued to move, something strange happened. For a second, a second only, the other three appeared to freeze, Chris with his static look of terror, Ella unable to shift away from that puzzled smile, and the gunman, his finger on the trigger but not squeezing, the tip of the silencer just a few inches away from her face.
Lucas couldn’t see his face properly, only the side of his head, and then there was his own hand and gun in a line with it, like someone else had put it there for him. He pulled the trigger and the guy dropped, the roar of the gun echoing through the lobby like a slammed door.
He moved quickly now, pushing Ella and Chris into the elevator, taking the guy’s gun and handing it to Ella. He looked around the lobby again before dragging the body into the shadows behind the first flight of stairs. There was blood everywhere but the lobby was gloomy so maybe no one would notice for a while.
He got into the elevator with them and pressed the fourth-floor button. They were both staring at him, shell-shocked, though he guessed that was better than having them panicked and screaming.
Ella’s face and top were bloodied, flecks of it sticky in her hair. He wiped the worst of it from her face with his fingers and then he prised the gun out of her hand and dropped it into one of the bags.
‘When we walk past reception, you walk on this side of me, okay?’ He was looking directly into her eyes and got a twitching nod back in response. ‘Chris, you okay?’ Another uncertain nod. ‘Good. Just hold it together till we get back to the room.’
The reception area was empty, but Lucas kept them tight, covering the angles as they made towards the room, hoping that the guy downstairs had been on his own. And he was still angry with himself because if the shooter hadn’t hesitated it would have been job over. He should have seen him, should have been more vigilant.
Once in the room Lucas locked the door behind him and checked that the bathroom was clear. Ella was gasping for air, like she’d been underwater since entering the lobby and had only just surfaced. He took hold of her by the shoulders and said, ‘You okay?’ She nodded, tears running into the blood on her cheeks, but he could tell she was fighting now, regrouping.
‘It’s my fault.’ Lucas turned and looked at Chris. He was standing in the corner, timid. ‘It’s my fault,’ he said again.
‘You called someone, didn’t you?’
‘From a phone booth,’ he said defensively. ‘And I only called home. I spoke to my brother.’
‘And told him what?’
‘Where we were. The hotel.’ He looked scared, and maybe with good reason. Lucas could feel himself coiling up with anger.
‘You stupid fuck.’
‘I didn’t know whether I could trust you. I wanted someone to know where we were, in case . . .’
‘In case what?’ He didn’t answer. ‘In case what? Because good for you, you let someone know where we were.’ He was moving towards him, the anger swelling, breaking. Ella made some desperate plea for calm but all Lucas could see was Chris and the fact he’d nearly got her killed.
‘I’m sorry, I didn’t . . .’ Lucas grabbed him by the shirt and threw him. Chris stumbled and fell onto the edge of the bed. He grabbed him again and put the gun between his eyes.
‘This close! This close! You stupid fuck!’
Chris was crying now, pleading incomprehensibly, and he could hear Ella saying, ‘Please, Lucas, don’t. Lucas, don’t,’ and then he could smell urine and Chris’s features crumpled further into humiliation. Suddenly all he could see was the boy he was standing over and he felt sick for what he’d just done to him, in front of his girlfriend.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said, and stepped back.
Chris sank down onto the floor and said, ‘Bastard.’