J.L. Doty - Dead Among Us 01 - When Dead Ain’t Dead Enough by J.L. Doty Page B

desperately the other way and took refuge behind the overturned metal cart, the Russian’s gun popping repeatedly, more chips of masonry splattering all over the hall, the cart jerking as bullets slammed into it. He caught a glimpse of old-man McGowan and the hippie running toward the Russian, probably to help him finish Paul. The two midgets had opened the stairwell door and were shouting for Paul to join them. Paul scrambled to his feet while Katherine struggled to her hands and knees, her tight skirt split in a tear almost up to her waist. She looked at the midgets with undisguised awe, looked back and forth between them and Paul, then at the Russians. She reached into her purse just as Joe Stalin raised his gun and aimed it straight at her face.
    A flood of thoughts poured through Paul’s head. If she was working with them, why would Joe Stalin try to kill her, literally execute her with a bullet in the face at almost point-blank range? The metal cart wasn’t large, and Paul had adrenaline working for him. He lifted it, swung it in an arc and threw it at the Russian, realizing as he did so he didn’t have the strength to throw it far enough. But as it bounced in the hall in front of Joe Stalin it startled him just as he pulled the trigger. The bullet slammed into the wall inches from Katherine’s face just as she pulled something out of her purse, spit on it and threw it up the hall toward Joe. It landed in the middle of the hallway, made a sound like a cork popping from a Champaign bottle, and a shimmering, translucent veil of something filled the hall from wall to wall. Joe Stalin fired his gun three more times, but when the bullets hit the veil they came to a stop in midair, moved forward at a snail’s pace for a second, passed through the veil then dropped to the floor of the hallway without any energy, bouncing on the linoleum with a faint plinking sound.
    “Run,” Katherine shouted, struggling to her feet.
    Paul reached down and hooked a hand under her armpit, heard some part of her clothing tear as he hauled her to her feet and dragged her toward the midgets, but she hobbled in a horribly uneven gate. She hesitated for an instant and growled, “Broke a heel,” kicked her shoes off and turned a really pissed-off look toward Paul. “Fucking Russians broke my Pradas. I’ll kill the bastards.”
    She looked back up the hall, and the shimmering veil appeared to be dissipating. “Run, run, run,” she shouted. “The spell only lasts a few seconds.”
    Paul’s feet got the message and she and he slammed through the stairway door together, the midgets barely a step in front of them. The midgets turned, put their shoulders into the door and slammed it shut. “We’ll hold the door,” they shouted in unison. The two of them leaned into the door, and Paul couldn’t believe what he was seeing, a couple of little men that, between them, couldn’t weigh a tenth of what Joe Stalin massed.
    He shouted at Katherine, “They can’t hold the fucking door.”
    She looked at him as if he was an idiot. “Of course they can,” she shouted back. “You know the power of the little people.” She grabbed his arm and started pulling him down the concrete stairs.
    “The little people ?” he demanded.
    “Yes,” she screamed, for some unknown reason clearly exasperated with him. “Leprechauns. You know how powerful they are.”
    “Leprechauns!” he shouted back. “Fucking leprechauns!”
    She’d dragged him down a flight of stairs to the third-floor landing. “Yes. If they’re on your side then you’re no rogue wizard.” She hesitated, closed her eyes and shook her head. “Damn! My shield spell just expired. Those Russian maniacs won’t be far behind.”
    As if to punctuate her statement he heard a loud thud from the floor above, the sound of a large man throwing his shoulder against the door. “Run,” both midgets shouted in unison.
    “Spell!” Paul shouted as Katherine dragged him down to the