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Still, the force of the blow knocked me partially off Finn, who grunted as my elbow dug into his shoulder.
Silence. Then -
"Open your eyes, pretty boy, or I'll put a bullet through your skull," the gunman threatened.
Finn sighed, and I saw him open his eyes and slowly hold his hands up. "All right, all right, you got me. I'm still alive. "
"I don't care about you," the giant snapped. "Is she dead? Or is she faking?"
"Of course she's dead," Finn snapped back, holding his hands out so the giant could get a better look at the bloody smears on his clothes. "Do you not see the blood all over the two of us? I'm lucky the bullets stopped inside her instead of going on through and into me. " He shuddered. "And now I think I'm going to be sick. So can you please just roll her off me or something? I can't stand the sight of blood. "
If it wouldn't have given me away, I would have snorted. Finn didn't have any more problem with blood than I did. He just didn't like it being splattered all over one of his precious Fiona Fine designer suits.
"But you're her partner," the giant said. "Everyone knows that. Shouldn't you be, you know, more upset that she's dead?"
"Actually, I'm more like her henchman," Finn corrected. "As for being upset that she's dead, well, she's not exactly the kind of woman you say no to, if you know what I mean. Trust me. I'm happy that she's gone. Thrilled. Ecstatic, even. "
Silence. Then -
The giant kicked me in the ribs again. Once more, I pretended that I couldn't feel the sharp, brutal blow. The giant kept up with his attacks, plowing his foot into my ribs, my shin, and even my shoulder. I thought he might lean down, press his gun against the back of my skull, pull the trigger, and try to put a couple of bullets into my head just to make sure that I was dead. But for once, my luck held, and he didn't take that final step. Maybe he was out of bullets. Or maybe he just wasn't that smart. Either way, after about three more minutes of dithering around and petulant pleas from Finn to move my body off him, the giant seemed to buy my playing possum.
"I did it," the guy finally said. "I did it! I killed the Spider! Woo-hoo!"
Okay, I thought the woo-hoo at the end was a little much, but I let the giant enjoy his moment of victory.
It was going to be the last thing he ever enjoyed.
"All right, all right," Finn groused again. "Now, can you please get her off me? Seriously, dude, I'm about three seconds away from throwing up here. I know you don't want that all over your boots. " He started making choking sounds.
"Fine, fine," the other man muttered. "Just quit your damn whining, already. "
The giant reached down, grabbed my shoulder, and turned me over.
I surged up and stabbed him in the chest for his thoughtfulness.
The giant screamed in surprise and jerked to one side, making my knife skitter across his ribs instead of slicing into his heart. He staggered back, and my knife cut free of his chest, blood spraying everywhere. The giant brought his revolver up between us and pulled the trigger.
Click.
Empty. Well, too bad for him. Fatal for him, actually.
I scrambled to my feet, raised my knife high, and threw myself forward, but the giant was anticipating the move.
He caught my arm in his hand. Given his enormous strength, it was easy for him to keep me from plunging my knife into his chest a second time. So I brought my free hand up, curved my fingers, and clawed at his face.
The giant let go of my arm and craned his neck back, trying to protect his eyes from my prying fingers.
"Gin! Down!" I heard Finn yell behind me.
I immediately stopped my attack on the giant and dropped to the ground.
Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack!
Bullets punched through the air where I'd been standing, and the familiar acrid burn of gunpowder mixed with the stench of garbage in the alley. A second later, the
giant's body hit the ground with a dull thud. knife still in my hand, I got to my feet and hurried over to him, but there was no need. Finn had put a couple of bullets through the giant's right eye and up into his brain. His body had already shut down; he wasn't even twitching.
I turned to look at Finn, who had a gun clenched in one hand. With his other hand, he was picking a piece of wilted cabbage off his jacket sleeve. He tossed the cabbage aside with a disgusted expression and moved over to me.
