Page 36 of The Circle

Alec, as much as he likes to think of himself as a god, isn’t. He can’t be all places at once.

I don’t stop moving forward and my mind races trying to think who else it could be.

There’s no one. There’s nobody else to look after us but us.

Which leaves me to conclude only one thing: That shot was an accident. It must have been. Maybe it was intended for Alec. One of Brasil’s other guys who had some kind of loyalty to David and…

Yeah, that must be it. Brasil had always planned to get his revenge on Christine by killing Alec with a sniper shot the same way Christine killed David. Quid pro assassination. It’s the only thing that makes sense.

But, unfortunately for Brasil, whoever he picked to pull the trigger is a shitty shot.

Or, maybe, Alec is right and fortune does favor the bold.

Or the reckless and incredibly lucky.

Regardless, I can’t worry about it now. There are still two dudes with guns about five feet from Alec and as soon as they shake off the shock of what’s just happened, they’ll be on top of him. So I have to get to him before they do.

The yelling and screaming is a helpful distraction. All the workers who’ve been milling around and all the tourists and locals out for constitutionals or whatever scatter as soon as they’re able to make sense of the sound they just heard and see Brasil’s body fall to the ground.

Mayhem makes for excellent camouflage.

I’m almost to the edge of the bridge when the shorter of Brasil’s two backup henchmen comes to his senses and whips out his piece. I draw on him and am just about to peel back his unsuspecting cabbage with a blast to the back of his ginger dome when Alec outguns him, taking him down with a shot that sends his neck snapping back, and suddenly two bodies lie dead on the footbridge.

The taller of the two, seeing his buddy go down, pops into scramble mode, ducks, rolls, and pulls out his pistol all at the same time.

He’s unaware that between Alec’s gun pointing at him from the front and mine from the back he’s already dead. But before Alec or I can pull either of our triggers, something pulls both of our focuses.

Another crack piercing the air. But this one’s louder, chunkier than the rifle crack that took out Brasil. This one sounds more like a nine-millimeter parabellum round. And it snaps past my ear.

Cillian. And the other fucker with the van. I look back to see that the second guy, the passenger, has circled around the front of the van and is advancing forward, shooting as he walks.

He walks. Walking forward slowly like he thinks he’s the Terminator or some shit.

His shot misses everyone, which in turn gives Alec a chance to dart forward and grab the remaining currently alive Irishman on the bridge. In a classic Alec move, he snatches up the guy, spins him around, and is now using him as a human shield.

If Terminator wants to gun Alec down, he’s going to have to saw through the body of his co-worker to do it.

Co-worker. In the midst of the chaos, that word popping into my head makes me laugh a little. Co-worker. Yeah. Someone’s gonna have to have a serious talk with HR when the bloodbath is over. This can’t be procedure.

I spin around to confront Terminator, but before I get the chance, Christine has handled him and he falls to the dirt. His timeclock punched for good.

She’s running up to join me where I’m now crouched at the edge of the bridge, but before she can reach me…

Cillian doesn’t shoot her. Thank God. But he does something infinitely more unexpected. And strange.

He grabs her. Grabs her up from behind like somebody pulling somebody else off a person they’re beating up. In that way that lets you know they’re not trying to harm them so much as restrain them, keep them from doing what they’re doing.

It’s weird.

In the midst of this show of lethal force playing out all around us, the fact that he would grab her, as opposed to end her, while way more preferable, is odd as shit.

And, I suppose, it’s that sense of disorientation I feel watching it happen that inhibits me for just long enough that he’s able to drag her, kicking and screaming, to the ajar back door of the idling van, throw her inside, slam it shut, jump into the driver’s side…

And take the fuck off.

ALEC

What the fok are Danny and Christine doing here?