Bat rushed down the stairs, missed his step, jumped. He landed with a crash as I fired after him.
I waited, listened.
A ghastly sobbing sound from the girl drifted up the wall of the staircase.
I peered over the rotten rail into darkness.
A spurt of flame lit the landing below. A slug cut through my coat sleeve, slicing a piece out of my arm. For blind shooting, it was impressive. I fired back, flung myself down as Bat opened up. He fired three times, stopped.
I crawled towards the stairs, began to go down them head first, flat, pulling myself forward with my hands.
“You there, bub?” Bat called. “You won’t get away this time.”
The girl began to scream again.
“Oh, my back!” she gasped. “Bat! Help me. My back—it’s broken. Help me, Bat.”
I heard Bat curse her. I crawled on, the hair on the back of my neck bristling at the whimpering screams from the girl.