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Everybody Dies - A Thriller (Phineas Troutt Mysteries Book 3) Page 24


  “Duodote,” he said, taking out an autoinjector. “It’s the antidote for nerve gas. I told you I prepared for everything.”

  “P-p-p-pa—” I stammered.

  “Pasha. I know. I’ve got two of them.”

  Harry stabbed me with the pen, and then went to her.

  Within ten seconds, I could breathe again.

  Still cramping, I managed to turn over. I threw up once more, tried to get the shakes under control, and noticed the Dan Wesson .45, under a chair.

  I dragged myself toward it.

  “Pasha’s breathing. She’ll be okay.”

  My shaky hand closed around the 1911. I pointed it at Hugo.

  “Hiya, Jackie,” I heard McGlade say. “What took you so long?”

  I looked.

  Lieutenant Jack Daniels, in a full space suit, stood in the doorway.

  Our eyes met.

  Then she turned around.

  I realized what Jack was doing.

  My friend was turning a blind eye.

  She wasn’t going to stop me.

  “Do it,” Harry said. “You don’t want this asshole to come back again in fifteen years.”

  I took careful aim.

  “Hey,” I said to Hugo.

  As his body shook with electricity, he managed to look at me.

  “You lose,” I told him. “I win.”

  Then I set the gun down, and passed out.

  When I opened my eyes, I saw white.

  White walls. White sheets.

  A hospital.

  I took an inventory of my body parts. Legs were still there. So were arms. Everything hurt, but it was a diffused pain.

  A woman was sitting in a chair, next to my bed, reading a magazine with one hand. The other was in a cast.

  Pasha.

  “Hi,” I said.

  “You’re awake. I’ve been waiting a while.”

  “You okay?”

  “Bad break. Could have been worse. A lot worse.”

  I reached out my hand for her.

  She didn’t reach for mine.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “For everything.”

  “Me, too.” Pasha started to tear up. “Dammit. I’ve cried so much lately. I don’t want to cry anymore.”

  “You won’t have to. I’ll make sure you never—”

  She held up her good hand. “Phin. Stop. Just stop.”

  Not a good sign.

  “I can’t… I can’t be with you anymore, Phin. This isn’t the life I want.”

  “I can change.”

  “It’s not even that. I mean, it is that, but it’s also… when I look at you…”

  “What.”

  “I look at you. Your nose… your chin…”

  I knew what she was trying to say. “You see him.”

  Pasha nodded, tears forming. “I love you, Phin. I’ll always love you. But you and me, we’re not meant to end up together.”

  “We love each other. Isn’t that enough?”

  She shook her head. “No. You know, all the time he had me, I kept waiting for you to come in and rescue me. And you did. You rescued me. That’s the kind of man you are. There are women who dream about that, Phin. About a knight in shining armor, riding in to save them from the dragon. But… I’m not one of those women.”

  That hurt deeper than any of my injuries. It even hurt worse than my cancer.

  Pasha stood up and turned to leave. I thought about what I should do. What I should say.

  But Pasha had been through enough.

  If I really loved her, the most loving thing I could do was let her go.

  “Have a beautiful life, Pasha.”

  I meant it more than anything I’d ever said.

  She nodded again.

  And then she was gone.

  “Bottom of the page,” McGlade said, tossing the newspaper on my hospital bed. “Column on the left.”

  “Local Gym Teacher Killed in Gay Hate Crime,” I read.

  I read further, and saw the deceased was named John Packer.

  “I wouldn’t be part of any organization that wanted to beat me to death,” Harry said. “And I didn’t even release the really dirty pictures. Just the wholesome ones.”

  I flipped to the front page. The headline was PRIVATE EYE SAVES THOUSANDS with an above-the-fold picture of a smiling Harry McGlade, giving a thumbs up.

  “I was hoping for ‘Harry Mcglade Saves the City.’ But at least the photo is good.” He gave me a grin that matched his pic.

  “Nice,” I told him.

  “I’m gonna be on Oprah tomorrow.”

  “Good for you, Harry.”

  “Also, I found my Magnum. It was under the front seat. So you don’t owe me a new one.”

  “Happy to hear it.”

  “How’s Pasha doing?”

  “She’ll be okay. She left me.”

  Harry nodded. “That’s because you’re a prick. But don’t worry. She’ll find someone else.”

  “Thanks.” Then I said it again. For real. “Thanks.”

  “Yeah, you’re always thanking me. How about actually doing something for me?”

  “Name it.”

  McGlade reached into his pocket and held up two tickets.

  “Next week. Aliens: The Musical. Front row seats.”

  He looked so earnest, so hopeful, that I couldn’t help it.

  “I’m in,” I said.

  “The Caucasian Nation was going to blame it on minority groups.” Jack sat in the visitor’s chair, looking very much the professional in a blue pantsuit and boots. “We found letters. They thought it would start a race war.”

  “Harry and I figured that out.”

  “It’s amazing that not a single person died. Some army scientists tested the sarin. They said it had degraded, lost a lot of potency. But you and Harry still saved a whole lot of people. And if Hugo got away with it, who knows? Maybe it would have started a war.”

  I looked away, staring at the ceiling.

  “He’s never getting out of prison,” Jack said, reading my thoughts. “The list of charges against your brother is longer than the Chicago phone book.”

  “Don’t lose him this time.”

  “We won’t. Six armed guards, heavy duty shackles, the works.”

  Both of us were quiet for a little bit. It was comfortable, rather than awkward.

  “I heard Pasha dumped you.”

  Well, that was awkward.

  “Her loss,” Jack said. “You’re a pretty amazing guy, Phin.”

  “You just catch me at the good times,” I said.

  More silence. Eventually, Jack reached out, put her hand on mine. “Why didn’t you kill him?”

  Why indeed?

  “I keep thinking about that. Maybe I felt sorry for him. Maybe I was trying to be something that I’m not. Or maybe…” I stared at her. “Maybe I was trying to impress a girl.”

  “Really?” Jack smiled. “Well, maybe she was impressed.”

  She stood up, gave me a small kiss on the cheek, and then handed me an envelope she’d had in her blazer.

  “See you around, Phineas Troutt.”

  After she left, I opened it. The greeting card had Santa Claus on the front. Inside, Jack had written:

  I think you’ll make it past Xmas, but I’m covering my bases.

  My very first Christmas card.

  And I had a newfound resolve to make sure it wouldn’t be my last.

  HARRY

  “Oprah, you look fab,” I told her. “Did you lose weight again?”

  Hey! Don’t cut away! This is the best part of the—

  PHIN

  A day.

  A week.

  A month.

  Many months.

  And then the phone call.

  “Complete remission,” the doctor told me. “It’s one of the most dramatic turnarounds I’ve ever seen. Congratulations.”

  I didn’t believe it.

  But the pain had stopped.

  Maybe that w
as all the proof I really needed.

  “Complete remission,” I said to Earl. “What do you think about that, asshole?”

  Earl, I’m pleased to report, wasn’t there to reply.

  AUTHOR AFTERWORD

  EVERYBODY DIES was written in 1996, four years after I’d graduated college. It was the third book in my Phineas Troutt trilogy, after DEAD ON MY FEET and DYING BREATH, and was never published. Six years later I took a different route and made Jack Daniels, one of the supporting characters, the lead in WHISKEY SOUR, which became my first published novel.

  Those three Phin books were the only novels of mine that hadn’t ever been seen by fans. Family and friends read them and liked them, literary agents read them and didn’t like them. But readers have asked for them, so I did some extensive rewriting and now DEAD ON MY FEET, DYING BREATH, and EVERYBODY DIES are available to the public.

  If you’re new to my books, Phin, Jack, and Harry also appear in a few dozen of my other novels. Check out the following bibliography, or my website www.jakonrath.com, for more details.

  And, as always, thanks for reading!

  Joe Konrath

  Chicago 2018

  TIMECASTER

  FUNNY! SEXY! ACTION PACKED!

  Chicago, 2064: Mankind Can Rewind

  Talon Alalon is a timecaster—one of a select few peace officers who can operate a TEV, the Tachyon Emission Visualizer, which records events (most specifically, crimes) that have already happened.

  With crime at an all-time low, Talon has little to do except give lectures to schoolkids—and obsess on his wife’s profession as a licensed sex partner.

  Then one of her clients asks Talon to investigate a possible murder. When Talon uses the TEV to view the crime, the identity of the killer is unmistakable—it’s him, Talon Avalon.

  Someone is taking timecasting to a whole new level and using it to frame Talon. And the only way he can prove his innocence is to go off the grid—which in 2064 is a very dangerous thing to do.

  Time is not on his side.

  Featuring all of the action, thrills, and humor of other Konrath books, but set in an outrageous never-before-seen future, the TIMECASTER series is ecopunk on super steroids. Add in healthy doses of sex, some characters from Konrath’s previous books (Talon is Jack Daniels’s grandson), and a lot of outrageous ideas about technology, society, and politics, and TIMECASTER is a book that will appeal to anyone who likes to be entertained, even if they don’t dig on sci-fi.

  SHOT OF TEQUILA

  Several million bucks, stolen from the mob…

  A PERFECT FRAME

  All caught on video, with no chance of redemption…

  A RED HOT RECIPE FOR RAMPAGING REVENGE

  Now one man must face the entire Chicago Outfit, a group of hardened Mafia enforcers, a psychotic bookie, the most dangerous hitman on earth, and Detective Jacqueline Daniels…

  His name is Tequila. And he likes those odds.

  WEBCAM

  Someone is stalking webcam models.

  He lurks in the untouchable recesses of the black web.

  He’s watching you. Right now.

  When watching is no longer enough, he comes calling.

  He’s the last thing you’ll ever see before the blood gets in your eyes.

  Chicago Homicide Detective Tom Mankowski (THE LIST, HAUNTED HOUSE) is no stranger to homicidal maniacs. But this one is the worst he’s ever chased, with an agenda that will make even the most diehard horror reader turn on all their lights, and switch off all Internet, WiFi, computers, and electronic devices.

  J.A. Konrath reaches down into the depths of depravity and drags the terror novel kicking and cyber-screaming into the 21st century.

  WEBCAM

  I’m texting you from inside your closet. Wanna play? :-)

  JOE KONRATH’S

  COMPLETE BIBLIOGRAPHY

  JACK DANIELS THRILLERS

  WHISKEY SOUR

  BLOODY MARY

  RUSTY NAIL

  DIRTY MARTINI

  FUZZY NAVEL

  CHERRY BOMB

  SHAKEN

  STIRRED with Blake Crouch

  RUM RUNNER

  LAST CALL

  SHOT OF TEQUILA

  BANANA HAMMOCK

  WHITE RUSSIAN

  OLD FASHIONED

  SERIAL KILLERS UNCUT with Blake Crouch

  LADY 52 with Jude Hardin

  65 PROOF short story collection

  FLOATERS short with Henry Perez

  BURNERS short with Henry Perez

  SUCKERS short with Jeff Strand

  JACKED UP! short with Tracy Sharp

  STRAIGHT UP short with Iain Rob Wright

  CHEESE WRESTLING short with Bernard Schaffer

  ABDUCTIONS short with Garth Perry

  BEAT DOWN short with Garth Perry

  BABYSITTING MONEY short with Ken Lindsey

  OCTOBER DARK short with Joshua Simcox

  RACKED short with Jude Hardin

  BABE ON BOARD short with Ann Voss Peterson

  WATCHED TOO LONG short with Ann Voss Peterson

  PHINEAS TROUTT THRILLERS

  DEAD ON MY FEET

  DYING BREATH

  EVERYBODY DIES

  STOP A MURDER PUZZLE BOOKS

  STOP A MURDER – HOW: PUZZLES 1 – 12

  STOP A MURDER – WHERE: PUZZLES 13 – 24

  STOP A MURDER – WHY: PUZZLES 25 – 36

  STOP A MURDER – WHO: PUZZLES 37 – 48

  STOP A MURDER – WHEN: PUZZLES 49 – 60

  CODENAME: CHANDLER SERIES

  EXPOSED with Ann Voss Peterson

  HIT with Ann Voss Peterson

  NAUGHTY with Ann Voss Peterson

  FLEE with Ann Voss Peterson

  SPREE with Ann Voss Peterson

  THREE with Ann Voss Peterson

  FIX with F. Paul Wilson and Ann Voss Peterson

  RESCUE

  THE HORROR COLLECTIVE

  ORIGIN

  THE LIST

  DISTURB

  AFRAID

  TRAPPED

  ENDURANCE

  HAUNTED HOUSE

  WEBCAM

  DRACULAS with Blake Crouch, Jeff Strand, and F. Paul Wilson

  HOLES IN THE GROUND with Iain Rob Wright

  THE GREYS

  SECOND COMING

  THE NINE

  GRANDMA? with Talon Konrath

  WILD NIGHT IS CALLING short with Ann Voss Peterson

  CLOSE YOUR EYES

  FOUND FOOTAGE

  TIMECASTER SERIES

  TIMECASTER

  TIMECASTER SUPERSYMMETRY

  TIMECASTER STEAMPUNK

  BYTER

  EROTICA

  (WRITING AS MELINDA DUCHAMP)

  FIFTY SHADES OF ALICE IN WONDERLAND

  FIFTY SHADES OF ALICE THROUGH THE LOOKING GLASS

  FIFTY SHADES OF ALICE AT THE HELLFIRE CLUB

  WANT IT BAD

  FIFTY SHADES OF JEZEBEL AND THE BEANSTALK

  FIFTY SHADES OF PUSS IN BOOTS

  FIFTY SHADES OF GOLDILOCKS

  THE SEXPERTS – FIFTY GRADES OF SHAY

  THE SEXPERTS – THE GIRL WITH THE PEARL NECKLACE

  THE SEXPERTS – LOVING THE ALIEN

  THE SEVEN YEAR WITCH

  Sign up for the J.A. Konrath newsletter. A few times a year I pick random people to give free stuff to. It could be you.

  http://www.jakonrath.com/mailing-list.php

  I won’t spam you or give your information out without your permission!

 

 

 
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