***
At the end of the work day Ran-Del debated but decided he would go to Benjie’s for one cup of tea. He drank it quickly, enjoying the comradeship of the Rangoon table as much as the familiar beverage, and put the empty cup down on the table with a sense of regret. He lifted a hand as he headed for the door. “Good night, all.”
“Good night, wild man,” Georges called.
Clara gave him an anxious smile. “Be careful, Ran-Del.”
Guillermo gave him a grin, and Thelma waved. Ran-Del decided not to wait for Janis to come out from the kitchen. He still felt twinges of guilt when he remembered Francesca’s pain.
He stepped from the light of the bar into the cool night air and drew a breath. It was a clear night. Tranquility, the only moon up, was a narrow crescent. The stars shone, not so brightly as at home but still beautiful. His footsteps crunched on the gravel walkway as he headed for the bridge. The night bats called, reminding him of the forest, even if these night bats lived in eaves instead of trees.
As soon as he had crossed the bridge, something niggled at Ran-Del. Was it his psy sense or was he catching Clara’s unease? He ran a few strides, then slowed his pace to a jog. Something was wrong. All at once he remembered that he had left Clara’s book. He had put it on the mantel over the fireplace at Benjie’s so it wouldn’t get damaged by spilled beer, and then he had gone off without it.
Was that what was wrong? He glanced back. He could see lights from the bar’s windows shining down on the river. Ran-Del dropped to a walk. The book wasn’t his property, and he hated to leave it out in plain sight. He had learned the hard way that not everyone in the city was as honest as the Sansoussy. On the other hand, he didn’t like to be late getting home, now that he knew how jealous Francesca was of his time at Janis’ bar.
Ran-Del’s indecision increased. He felt drawn back to the bar. Frustrated, he turned back toward Benjie’s and ran as far as the bridge. He would never get home if he kept hesitating. Better to retrieve the book and get it over with.
As soon as he set foot on the bridge, Ran-Del felt a prickling on the back of his neck. He hurried, running fast, and was almost halfway across the bridge when two things happened at once. The door to Benjie’s opened, thrusting a long triangle of light into the darkness, and simultaneously a loud noise, like the whoosh of air leaving a confined space, exploded into the air. Ran-Del hit the ground instinctively, glancing over his shoulder as he dropped. A searing pain crossed his forehead, and he felt blood run down his face. Ran-Del cried out as he hit the pavement. He rolled onto the walkway, keeping tight to the bridge railing, and drew his knife.
A shout came from Benjie’s. “Who is that? Hey, what’s going on out there?”
The sound of running footsteps echoed from the near side of the river. Ran-Del lay still, panting in pain and tried to determine what was happening.
“I got him!” a low voice said triumphantly from the darkness.
“Shut up!” a second voice said urgently. “He’s down, but I don’t think he’s dead. We’ve got to finish him to get paid.”
Ran-Del stayed very still, his body pressed against the railing, his knife tucked out of sight.
Two figures in black flitted to the foot of the bridge. Ran-Del could see the slender barrels of their weapons, one long and the other short, glinting in the pale moonlight. There were more shouts from Benjie’s, and Ran-Del was vaguely aware of movement from that direction.
One assailant stepped closer and raised his rifle-like weapon to his shoulder. Ran-Del gathered his strength and then rolled out of the way as the unknown weapon blasted a hole in the bridge railing behind him.
Ran-Del came out of his roll in a crouch and lunged for his attacker, knife at the ready. He misjudged the distance, and his blade bit into his attacker’s leg instead of his torso; the man screamed just as his partner fired his smaller weapon from close range.
Ran-Del didn’t cry out. He had no more strength. He lay on his back in the middle of the bridge while a long, narrow rent across his chest leaked his heart’s blood onto the paving stones. He heard the two men’s footsteps run off into the darkness just as more footsteps approached from the far side of the bridge. He was only dimly conscious when Guillermo leaned over him and shouted back at the others.
“It’s Ran-Del! He looks bad. Someone call for a med team!”
The Sixth Discipline Page 70
