9.
 Then another.
Kery opened his eyes, startled, to see who was hurt. The beautiful tune died in his head.
Another scream cut through the air—no, a whoop, followed by others. Dozens of ground car engines roared into life. Headlights flicked on.
Still the lights wavered in the windows, bouncing messages from one window to another. Sometimes three windows would sing a perfect chord in unison.
Kery watched in dismay as the cars flew by, bouncing and twisting on the rough floor. He had a vision of Temerius, yelling as he waved a fist; he had his other arm around Adjuni in the back of an open car. Kery saw a brief glimpse of the mercenary, Athvane, clutching a cigar in his teeth and a shotgun in his hands as he stood upright against the roll bar of a racing car. Others had shotguns. Around and around the Basilica they raced. Waving their guns.
POOM, went a shotgun, and a window’s colors fell in shards.
POOM went another shotgun, and another window went blank.
Those watching screamed and clapped their hysterical delight. Those in the trucks and cars screamed and fired, over and over, having a contest to see who could shoot which windows out first.
Kery watched all this, feeling too sick to move. The wine bottle fell from his grasp and broke.
He saw Clifor frantically run into the road, waving his arms to stop a car. The car ran him over, its tires rolling down the center of his body, flattening it, dead.
Kery turned and staggered toward the nearest window. Cars raced around him, and he almost didn’t care if they hit him. But none did. He climbed up slight incline to the opening of a window that had fallen in ages ago. He left the shouting and the shooting behind him and stumbled in the dark—until he tripped and fell.
He fell, tumbling, and rolled down a slope amid a slide of pebbles. A few rocks rolled, bouncing, ominously near his head. Each time he hit, more bones broke. He couldn’t breathe—his ribs caved in, the breath knocked out of him, his lungs collapsed—and shock drove away pain. Then he whacked into something and blacked out.
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Thank you for reading. If you love it, tell your friends. Please post a favorable review at Amazon, Good Reads,
and other online resources. If you want to thank the author, you may also buy a copy for the low price of a cup of
coffee. It's called Read-a-Latte: similar (or lower) price as a latte at your favorite coffeeshop, but the book lasts
forever while the beverage is quickly gone. Thank you (JTC).
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Copyright © 2018 by Jean-Thomas Cullen, Clocktower Books. All Rights Reserved.
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