Warhol's Prophecy (51 page)

Walker shot her in the face, and moved on.

Something crunched beneath his feet and he noticed that several teeth lay on the floor. Blown from other dead mouths by his well-placed bullets.

‘You fucking cunt!’ screamed Craig Levine, turning to face him.

Walker raised the 225 and shot him twice. One bullet entered his mouth and exited through the back of his neck, severing his spine, killing him instantly.

Ray Taylor was slumped over a table nearby, eyes open accusingly. His body had been punctured by more than a dozen shots.

Others, either wounded or hiding, knew that all they could do was wait.

Walker moved swiftly around the room, overturning tables, looking for those who sought to evade him.

He shot in the head each one he found.

As he made his way back towards the main entrance of the ballroom, he realized how hard he was finding it to breathe. The smoke in the room was now choking him too, and he was sheathed in sweat. He took a glass of mineral water from one of the tables as he passed and drained its contents, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

Hot work.

Walker heard breathing. Low, guttural, close by. To his left.

He noticed that two tables had been pushed together on their sides, as if to form some kind of rampart. A bloodied tablecloth had been drawn over the top.

Walker could see bullet holes through both the table-tops and the cloth.

He stood still, ears alert for the sound.

He heard something else: a faint whimper.

He raised the Scorpion and aimed it at the two tables. Taking hold of the cloth, Walker pulled it away and looked down.

There were two of them hiding there.

The man had been hit in the shoulder, but it looked as if the bullet had gone right through.

His companion, whom he sheltered, was unharmed.

Walker smiled. ‘I wondered where you were,’ he said quietly. ‘Hello, Becky.’

‘G
ET IT OVER
with.’

Rob Gibson looked up defiantly at Walker, one arm around his daughter, the other hand clamped firmly to his shoulder. Blood was seeping through his fingers.

Walker pulled the tables aside and offered his hand to Rob to help him up.

Becky was crying softly.

‘If you’re going to kill us, then do it, you insane fucker,’ Rob snarled.

Walker lashed out with the butt of the automatic, and caught Rob across the face.

Becky grabbed at her father, clinging to his leg as he rose uncertainly, blood now running down his cheek from the new cut just below his eye.

‘Watch your language in front of your daughter, Rob,’ Walker said evenly, staring straight into his eyes.

‘At least let Becky go,’ Rob offered.

‘You want to stay with your dad, don’t you?’ Walker said, smiling.

Becky looked up at him with swollen red eyes. She sniffed back tears.

‘You bastard,’ rasped Rob.

Walker struck him again. A blow that cracked two of Rob’s front teeth and sent him reeling backwards.

‘I warned you about your language,’ Walker hissed, pointing the automatic.

Rob hauled himself tentatively upright, his head spinning.

He already felt sick from the wound in his arm. It felt as if his shoulder was on fire. A dreadful numbness had begun to envelop that arm as far down as his elbow. He could barely move his fingers. He ran his tongue over the edges of his teeth, then spat blood.

‘Why are you doing this?’ Rob asked.

Walker grinned. ‘Hailey asked me the same thing,’ he said.

‘Where is she?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘If you’ve hurt her, I’ll . . .’ Rob snapped.

Walker pushed the 225 towards his face.

‘You’ll what, Rob?’ he said flatly. ‘You’re hardly in a position to threaten me, are you?’

‘So tell me
why
?’

‘You saw all the photographers out there when you arrived, didn’t you? Local newspapers, nationals, television? Can you imagine what they’ll make of this? It’ll be all over the media tomorrow. You won’t be able to pick up a paper or turn on a television without
this
being mentioned. And, the funny thing is, the media
made
it happen. They love things like this: Dunblane, Hunger-ford, now this. They won’t let things rest, you see. They’re always talking about how we mustn’t forget these tragedies. But what never occurs to them is that by constantly dragging them up, by always reminding people who it was who carried out these atrocities, they’re giving other people ideas. They offer us immortality, Rob: immortality to anyone who wants it. But they take no responsibility for what they encourage. It’ll be like a feeding frenzy once they get here. And they’ll all want to know the name of the person who did this.’ He made an expansive gesture with his hand designed to encompass the dozens of bullet-riddled corpses scattered around the room. ‘And we’re talking about dead celebrities too? It’s a media dream!’

Walker smiled.

Rob tried to swallow, but his throat was too dry.

‘You did
this
just to get your name in the papers?’ he croaked.

‘You could say that,’ Walker told him.

He pushed a chair towards Rob. ‘Sit down,’ he instructed. ‘You too, Becky.’

They did as they were told.

‘Drop the guns.’

The voice came from the bullet-riddled main doors.

All three of them turned.

Hailey stood at the top of the small flight of steps.

She was holding the Steyr in both hands, clumsily aiming it at Walker as best she could.

‘The police will be here in a minute,’ she said. ‘It’s over, Adam. Put down the guns.’

‘Come in, Hailey,’ Walker said, smiling. ‘I’ve been expecting you.’

‘M
UM
.’

Becky’s mournful cry echoed around the devastated ballroom.

‘It’s all right, babe,’ Hailey called back, taking a step forward. ‘It’s all right now.’

But it wasn’t all right.

Far from it.

Hailey was shaking, the Steyr trembling unsteadily in her grasp.

Christ, it was heavy.

She looked at the scene before her. The bodies, the blood.

She smelled the coppery odour and the stench of excrement. Her ears were still ringing from the savage fusillade of gunfire.

She saw Becky clinging to Rob’s leg, her face glistening with tears. Saw the wound in Rob’s arm, blood still trickling over his hand. He had blood on his face, too.

Behind them stood Walker.

No, this was anything
but
all right.

‘What are you going to do, Hailey?’ Walker demanded, watching as she moved a little closer, the automatic still pointed towards him.

‘Let them go,’ Hailey said. ‘You’ve done what you came to do.’ She almost stumbled over the outstretched leg of a corpse.

Hailey looked down and saw that it was a young woman, no more than thirty.

Eyes open and gazing blankly at the ceiling.

A bullet hole in her left breast, another in her hand.

There was an engagement ring on that shattered hand.

Hailey tore her gaze away – back to Walker and her family.

‘Rob,’ she called.

‘Rob saved Becky,’ Walker interjected. ‘Wasn’t that good of him? Just like
I
saved her that day in the shopping centre. Just think, if she’d never got lost, we’d never have met. That must have been fate.’

Hailey continued moving closer.

‘Now put the gun down before you do something stupid, Hailey,’ Walker ordered.

She shook her head.

‘Are you going to shoot me? he asked scornfully. ‘You’ve never fired a gun in your life. Do you know what kind of recoil you get on those automatics? And it’s heavy, isn’t it? Why don’t you just put it down?’

Walker raised the Sig and pressed it to the back of Rob’s head. He did the same with the Scorpion, resting the barrel lightly against Becky’s skull.

‘Even if you manage to shoot me,’ Walker said softly, ‘even if you kill me with the first shot, my muscles will spasm. My fingers will tighten on these triggers. And
that’s
if you even manage to hit me. If your aim is off, you could hit Rob or Becky. If I were you, I’d put the gun down. For
all
our sakes.’

She hesitated, slowed her pace.

Stopped no more than ten feet away from him. Hailey glared at him with hatred in her eyes.

‘If you kill
them
, then I
want
to die,’ she said angrily. ‘So then I can shoot and it doesn’t matter, because I swear to God I’ll get
you.
’

‘Fighting talk,’ Walker said mockingly.

Rob stood still, the metal of the gun barrel cold against his scalp.

He could feel Becky clinging to his leg, and he reached out with his free hand to touch her cheek.

She clung tighter.

Think! What the fuck do you do?

He closed his eyes so tightly that white stars danced behind their lids.

THINK!

The table close to him was relatively untouched. A half-drunk bottle of champagne still stood on it. So, too, did a plate of food . . . knives, forks, a broken glass.

He leant against it, steadying himself, as a wave of nausea swept over him.

Hailey looked at him in concern.

‘He’s losing blood,’ Walker said. ‘Put down the gun, Hailey.’

‘You’re going to kill us anyway,’ she rasped. ‘Why not just do it?’

‘If I kill you, who’s going to tell people what happened here tonight?’ Walker grinned. ‘No, someone has to survive.’ His smile broadened. ‘And I’m going to let
you
choose who that is.’

Hailey frowned, the Steyr wavering.

‘Do you understand me?’ Walker continued.

Hailey took a step closer, her heart hammering against her ribs.

‘You decide,’ Walker said evenly. ‘Your daughter or your husband? Which one dies?’

‘A
DAM, PLEASE,
’ H
AILEY
said, the colour draining from her cheeks. ‘For God’s sake, don’t make me choose. I’ll do anything. but, please God, don’t kill them.’

‘God has very little to do with this, Hailey,’ said Walker flatly. ‘He’s had very little to do with anything in my life. Now choose.’

‘Shoot
me
, you mad fuck,’ snarled Rob.

‘Shut up,’ Walker snapped, pushing the barrel hard against the back of his head.

‘Come on, do it,’ Rob insisted, raising his voice.

‘Perhaps I should start with Becky,’ Walker announced, trailing the barrel of the Scorpion over her silken hair.

‘Please,’ Hailey begged.

‘Put the gun down,’ Walker ordered.

‘Come on, shoot me – or are you too gutless?’ Rob persisted, half turning to look at his captor.

Hailey felt the Steyr wavering in her grip. Its weight seemed to increase by the second.

‘Choose, Hailey,’ Walker said again.

‘I can’t,’ she said, her voice a whisper.

‘Choose,’ he said loudly. There was anger in his tone.

Becky was crying uncontrollably now, seeing the anguish on her mother’s face.

‘I need you as my witness, Hailey,’ Walker told her. ‘I need you to tell people what happened here tonight. I need you to tell them my name.’

Hailey felt faint. She looked from one face to another.

Her daughter?

Her husband?

The guns at their heads.

No, this wasn’t right. No one should have to make a decision like this. Madness lay along that road.

Rob avoided her gaze.

Was he trying to make it easier for her?

Hailey could feel tears running down her cheeks as she continued looking from face to face.

Becky was crying. ‘Mum,’ she whined, that plaintive agonized call for help more devastating than all the furious blasts of fire that had gone before.

Again Hailey felt faint.

‘Choose,’ Walker told her.

She raised the Steyr so that it was pointing at his face.

Walker merely shook his head.

Hailey looked at Rob.

I love you!

He met her gaze. Nodded almost imperceptibly.

He wants Walker to shoot him. Save Becky. Save your daughter. Save
our
daughter.