Mike Dixon

„Was it you who sent those men to kill me?‟
„You left me no choice, David. I made you a generous offer
and you refused to accept it.‟
„You wanted me to betray Sue Lynne.‟
„I wanted you to tell the truth. You screwed my wife but it
didn‟t stop there. You went along with her filthy plans to defame
my mother. No decent son can tolerate that. It pisses
me off how I have to do everything myself.‟
His hand slid towards his gun and David acted automati-
cally. It was like a replay of the incident on the stairs at his
grandfather‟s birthday party. David‟s foot smashed into Har-
ald‟s groin and his fists rained down on Harald‟s chest. But,
this time, there were no elderly people to express horror and
consternation when Harald collapsed onto the floor screaming
– just the sound of his minder thundering down the ve-
randa towards them.
David didn‟t attempt to pick up the gun. He‟d made that
mistake with Barry and lost the initiative. Instead, he kicked
it through the hole in the floor and lowered Anne down after
it. A moment later he was by her side rummaging for the
weapon. The gun looked better than Humphrey‟s but he
couldn‟t find it. He gave up and carried the child to the protection
of a low wall.
His thoughts had been to vanish into the pouring rain.
That was no longer an option. The wind had intensified.
Sheets of galvanized iron were flying past. It would be sui-
cidal to go outside. He crouched beside the wall and sheltered
the child with his body as something huge crashed
against the side of the house. Sparks flew and the building
was plunged into total darkness.
David guessed the power supply had finally fallen victim
to the storm. The diesel generator, which had survived
Daryl‟s faulty maintenance, had fused and died when the
end of the building was blown apart. He cupped his ear and