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It was Johnnys voice, in her ear. She eased slowly—slowly—onto her side. Her shoulder throbbed with pain, but she gritted her teeth and kept moving. Keeping low, she crawled to the end of the aisle, ripped open a box of Kotex, and shoved a pad over her wound, holding it in place. The pressure hurt like hell and made her dizzy.
"Tully? What happened? Talk to me. Are you okay?"
"Im here," she said. "I just put . . . a dressing on my wound. I think Im fine. "
"Thank God," Johnny said. "You want to turn off your mic?"
"No way. "
"Okay. Youre live, remember? Keep talking. They cant hear me, but they can hear you. This is your big break, kiddo, and Im right here to help you. Can you describe the scene?"
> She got to a crouch, wincing at the pain, and moved forward slowly, trying to gauge when she could actually look up. "Moments ago, a masked man came into this mini-mart on Beacon Hill, wielding a handgun and demanding money from the clerk. He fired once into the air to make his point and once into me. " Her voice was as loud a whisper as she dared.
She heard a noise; it sounded like crying. Keeping low, she came around the corner and found a little boy, huddled against the neon candy aisle.
"Hey," she said, holding out her hand. He took it greedily, squeezing so tightly she couldnt pull away. "Who are you?"
"Gabe. Im here with my grandpa. Did you see that guy shoot his gun?"
"I did. Im going to go find your grandpa to make sure hes okay. You stay here. Whats your last name, Gabe, and how old are you?"
"Linklater. Im gonna be seven in July. "
"Okay, Gabe Linklater. You stay low and keep quiet. No more crying, okay? Be a big boy. "
"Ill try. "
She tucked her chin toward her chest and talked quietly into the mic. She wasnt sure what the station could hear, but she just kept talking. "I found seven-year-old Gabe Linklater in the candy aisle. He came in with his grandfather, who Im looking for now. I can hear the gunman over at the register, threatening the cashier. Tell the police theres only one robber. " She turned the corner.
There she found an old man, sitting cross-legged on the floor, holding a box of Purina Dog Chow. "Are you Gabes grandfather?" she whispered.
"Is he okay?"
"A little scared, but fine. Hes in the candy aisle. What did you see?"
"The robber drove up in a blue car. I saw him through the window. " He looked at her shoulder. "Maybe you should—"
"Im going to move in closer. " She compressed the pad against her wound again, winced at the pain, and waited for the nausea to pass. This time, her hand came away bloody. Ignoring it, she reported in again to the anchor she couldnt hear. "Apparently, Mike, the lone gunman arrived in a blue car, which should be parked outside in front of one of the windows. Im happy to say that Gabes grandfather is also alive and unharmed. Now Im working my way toward the register. I can hear the gunman yelling that there has to be more money and the cashier saying that he cant open the safe. I can see the flash of lights outside. So the police have arrived. Theyre shining the lights into the store, telling him to come out with his hands up. " She scuttled out in the open for just a second and then crouched behind a life-sized standee of Mary Lou Retton eating Wheaties. "Tell the police hes taken off his mask, Mike. Hes blond-haired, with a snake tattoo that wraps around his neck. The gunman is extremely agitated. Hes screaming obscenities and waving his gun around. I think—"
Another gunshot rang out. Glass shattered. Seconds later a SWAT team stormed through the glass doors.
"Tully!" It was Johnny, calling out for her.
"Im okay. " She stood up slowly, feeling a wave of pain and nausea at the movement. She saw the live truck through the broken window. Mutt was there with the camera, shooting all of it, but she couldnt see Johnny. "Seattle SWAT has just shot the glass out of the window and come in. They have the robber on the ground. Ill see if I can get close enough to ask them some questions. "
She eased around the standee and moved slowly forward. She was near the cereal aisle now, and for a split second she thought about Saturday morning breakfasts at the Mularkeys. Mrs. M. used to let her have Quisp. Only on the weekends, though.
That was her last conscious thought before she passed out.
The drive to the hospital seemed to last forever. All the way there, through the stop-and-go city traffic, Kate sat in the backseat of the smelly cab and prayed that Tully would be okay. Finally, at just past eleven oclock, they pulled up out front. She paid the driver and ran into the brightly lit lobby.
Johnny and Mutt were already there, slumped in uncomfortable plastic chairs, looking haggard. At her entrance, Johnny stood.
She ran to him. "I saw the news. What happened?"
"A man shot her in the shoulder and she kept on broadcasting. You should have seen her, Mularkey, she was brilliant. Fearless. "
Kate heard the admiration in his voice, saw it in his eyes. Any other time it might have wounded her, that obvious pride; now it pissed her off. "Thats why youre in love with her, isnt it? Because she has the guts you dont. So you put her in harms way and get her shot and youre proud of her passion. " Her shaking voice drew the last word out like a piece of poisoned taffy. "Screw the heroics. I wasnt talking about the news. I was asking about her life. Have you even asked how she is?"
