The Beckitts lifted their guns and opened fire on the broom, while I hunkered down behind the counter. They must have been using revolvers, now, because they fired smoothly and in an ordered rhythm.
Bullets smacked into the walls and the counters at the back of the kitchen, but none of them came through the counter that sheltered me.
I caught my breath, pressing my hand against the blood on my hip. It hurt like bloody hell. I thought the bullet was stuck, somewhere by the bone. I couldn't move my leg.
There was a lot of blood, but not so much that I was sitting in a puddle. Out on the balcony, the fire was beginning to catch, spreading over the roof. The entire place was going to come crashing down before much longer.
"Stop shooting, stop shooting, damn you!" Victor screamed, as the gunfire came to a halt.
