Ridley Pearson - The Angel Maker

He managed to get the key in the lock. "Stay"' he directed Felix as the dog edged toward freedom. "Heel!" he commanded, The dog obeyed, though cautiously. Tegg removed the lock, grabbed the collar's remote wand, and shocked Sharon immediately.

Daphne lost sight of Sharon briefly as she fell back to the cement. "Disconnect the I.V.," Tegg directed, "needle and all."

She obeyed. He shocked her again, apparently to weaken her; and she looked weakened, although Daphne had seen her take much more than this by grabbing hold of the fence. A ruse?

He shocked her yet again. "You'll do exactly as I say," he commanded. She nodded eagerly. "Good. We're going to get in the car, you in front of me. You'll be weak on your feet, but you must not fall. Hmm? I'll punish you," he said, tripping the warning button. She nodded.

He opened the cage. Sharon moved tentatively forward. "We're going away," he said. "It's better this way, anyway," he added.

Daphne glanced across at her gun: a second or two to get out of this cage, another one or two to cross the aisle. Yet another to go for the gun. Five seconds at the least, possibly longeran eternity for that guard dog.

A lifetime, she thought. Without that dog in the equation, she could take on Tegg by herself. Hand-to-hand if necessary. But the dog swung the equation heavily in his favor. Even so, if they made it to the car, Sharon was gone. Everything lost.

Sharon came out of the cage. Daphne could feel her pain as she forced herself to stand. She took one tentative step forward. Tegg, carrying the remote in one hand, the dart pistol in the other, followed her slowly. "Doing fine," he said.

Daphne went for it. She leapt forward, wormed her fingers through the chain link and opened the latch. She swung the door open and dove across the center aisle, shoving her arm beneath the chain link and straight into the opposing pen. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Tegg's reaction. Her hand groped for the gun. The pit bull attacked, but this time she got the safety off and fired. The dog squealed and retreated.

Daphne freed the gun and turned in time to aim at the guard dog, who skidded to a stop as Tegg hollered, "Sit!" He had Sharon by the neck, using her as a screen, the dart gun aimed around her.

He was at a disadvantage here: He had but one shot, and it wouldn't kill her immediately. His only trump was Sharon.

That dog was aching to charge. Tegg dragged Sharon toward an adjacent cage. Two dogs? Daphne thought. "Don't do it!" she advised, her attention split between the guard dog, only a few feet from her, and its master.

His hand groped for the latch-he too, knew that two dogs were nearly impossible to stop. "Don't!" she warned, switching her aim from Tegg to the dog in front of her. "Would you actually shoot a dog?" he asked.

She shot Felix dead. Once to drop him. Once more to finish him off.

Tegg cried loudly in protest, "You killed him!" He stared down at the dog in disbelief and repeated it. "Take your hand off that cage," she instructed.

He obeyed. Good, they were getting somewhere. She added up her previous shots-five outside, one in the pen, two for the guard dog: eight-only to realize she had but one bullet left. But Tegg didn't know that.

She raised the gun and aimed it directly at Tegg. Sharon wrestled to get free. "No!" Tegg ordered. Two years ago, Daphne had been in the clutches of a madman, Boldt with the gun.

Now the roles were reversed. She faced up to the reality of killing Tegg. She glanced down at the poor dog. God! It was still alive! Its paw twitched. "What's the use?" she asked Tegg. She had to get him talking now. She resorted to negotiation, the only solution she knew to such a standoff. "What if my partner's outside?"

The headlights almost blinded her. Could she get off a clean shot? "Then he's a little bit slow," Tegg said. "Slow?" she asked. "How long for whatever's in that toy to take effect?" she asked, indicating the dart pistol. "This is no toy," she said, placing her other hand onto the Beretta, prepared to risk a kill shot to the head. It was a tricky shot, easy to miss even in the best light, the most controlled environment. But no matter what, he wasn't going to put Sharon into that car with him. "The dog is still alive," she said, "you can help him. "You've struck a lung. He will suffocate on his own blood. Finish him."

"You can still save him, Doctor. Let Sharon go," she advised. It was a good distance for a head shot the light was bad, but the distance good.

She couldn't hold the gun up like this much longer. It grew heavy quickly. But with it lowered to her side, she'd have no chance of hitting him cleanly. She kept it elevated. "Tell me about Thomas Kent," she said, using the name of the man he had killed on the operating table in medical school Stunned, he loosened his hold on Sharon. Daphne took another step forward. Another few feet and she could risk the head shot. "You're a wicked little woman, aren't you?" he said, raising his own weapon. "It was you with Pamela, wasn't it? Of course it was. You killed her, you know? Without you, she would still be alive."

The news of Pamela's death shocked Daphne, and his attempt to stick her with guilt worked, for she understood she had pushed Pamela hard-too hard? — knowingly.

She was going to lose the gun-she couldn't hold it up any longer.

If she lowered it, he would shoot her.

Sharon winked her one good eye and looked down.

Only then did Daphne notice the needle in her hand.

Sharon leaned her head back against Tegg and looked up at him.

Briefly, he glanced down at her.

She grinned through the leather muzzle and drove the needle into Tegg's eye. Sharon broke loose.

Daphne fired, but missed wildly, as Tegg dropped the dart gun and reached for the needle. He extricated it with an ear-piercing shriek and reached for the shovel. He leveled it once onto Sharon, who had fallen and was crawling toward the car. She buckled with the blow.

Daphne dove at him. He swung the shovel at her and caught her sideways, splaying her against the cage, but lost his balance. He raised it again-this time aiming to come down on Daphne's head.

Daphne seized hold of the dart gun. The shovel reached its apex.

Next stop … He was sure to crush her skull.

Summoning the last of her resolve, Sharon sprang the few feet across the cement, going for his legs-one hand slid under his pant leg as the other groped for, and found, the electric fence.

The charge surged through her-through them both-and she would not let go. The buzzer on her collar cried out. Tegg went rigid and with the pain, the shovel suspended above him. Eyes white. jaws locked open in what began as a silent scream and then turned deafening.

Daphne squeezed the trigger and fired. The dart gun went off with a dull pop. The white cottony rabbit's tail protruded from Tegg's chest where the dart lodged. "No!" he screamed, scooting backwards on the cement, as if he could get away from it. Escape it. Only he knew what drug that dart contained. He pulled it out and dropped it onto the cement prior to the first convulsion. "Too much!" he said frantically, knowing the dosage, terrified, staring into Daphne's eyes as if she could help him. "Too much! Too much!" His whole body jumped. Waves of the convulsions passed through him. "Too much!" he repeated, jolted again. But then his mouth wouldn't move. His eyes remained fixed open. Dead? or a result of the drug? His body went limp, then rigid, in an increasing series of convulsions. It stopped completely.

Daphne dragged herself over to Sharon and rolled her over.

She was hemorrhaging.

Daphne rode with her in the helicopter, though the paramedic protested against it, claiming there were rules to follow. Once airborne though, he kept trying to treat Daphne as well, but she wouldn't have any of it.