22(S2E9)-Not Fast Enough

22

(Season 2 Episode 9)

Not Fast Enough

Rockwell did not enter the house.  In his mind there was no need.

His tommy-gun fired forty-five caliber rounds, which had more than enough power to pierce the wall from the outside.  With that in mind, Rockwell began to strafe along the deck pulling down on the trigger, letting bullet after bullet rip through the kitchen drywall.

A weaker person would have run or hid as the high caliber bullets wreaked havoc on the large kitchen.

The Librarian was anything but weak.

Instead, she brought herself to her feet and strafed from the inside of the kitchen, holding the trigger on the Saiga.  Loud boom after boom sounded before the shells took large circular chunks out of the wall.

The gunfire sounded everywhere as they both moved their volleys, sending wood and cabinet pieces everywhere.

This continued for a full thirty seconds.

They both reached the end of the wall ending up staring at each other through a sliding glass door.  Both of their guns went empty.

They stared at each other in amazement.

Both of them looked back at the fifteen foot stretch of wall and large number of bullet holes.  They then looked back at each other.  Somehow they had emptied their respective weapons at each other from ten or so feet away and failed to hit.

Rockwell chuckled.  “Go figure.”

The Librarian’s eyes narrowed.  “Indeed.”

Rockwell read her mind.  “You are thinking about how fast you can get a clip in that shotgun of yours.  I’ll save you the trouble, the answer is not fast enough.”

Her eyebrow rose.  “You think highly of yourself.”

 “Bitch.”  Rockwell grinned.  “I’m gonna fucking decimate you.”

The Librarian took a deep, exhausted breath.  “That is physically impossible.”

Rockwell’s face became interested.  “Explain.”

“Because,” the librarian shook her head.  “To decimate means to take a tenth of or from. So, unless you are planning on destroying me in ten percent increments, your statement makes no sense.”

Rockwell began to smile from ear to ear.  “Interesting… ten percent increments huh? That’s gonna be a tall order, but I’m up for the challenge.”

There was another half second of staring.

The Librarian ejected the spare clip and went for another.  Rockwell did the same.

Rockwell was faster.

In the millisecond before The Librarian could rack the slide to chamber a shell, he pulled Bonnie, his tommy-gun up, leveled and fired a burst.  The sliding glass door shattered and fell away.  A number of rounds found their mark in The Librarian’s Kevlar vest.  The force from the rounds was dispersed like a punch to her chest and she staggered backward.

Another bullet caught her in the right shoulder as she reeled, forcing her to drop the big shotgun.  Unbeknownst to her, the door to the basement and Don’s operation room was directly behind her.  She crashed through it and tumbled down the open staircase.

She hit the tile floor and rolled backward along it, crashing into the operating table and coming to a rest face down.

Rockwell was pleased with himself.  “Like I said, not fast enough.”

He moved through the door where the glass was.  Stone was standing next to the staircase to the basement.  “Carful.”

“Fuck off, Stone.” Rockwell replied as he passed the apparition. “It’s ass-kick o’clock.”

Rockwell came to the bottom of the stairs with his gun dangling at his side ready to move in for the kill.

The Librarian rolled over onto her back with a Walther PP-7, a small twenty-two caliber seven shot automatic handgun.  Rockwell recognized it because it was the gun that James Bond always used.

“Shit.” Rockwell uttered.

The Librarian fired her fist shot and it struck Rockwell in the upper thigh.  He yelped and grabbed his leg.  Her second shot missed.  Rockwell reacted, putting all of his effort into a leaping dive to the right, sending himself over a medicine table and crashing to the other side in a hail of pill bottles.

As he flew through the air he heard The Librarian’s gun pop off another round.  He felt a vibration rock through his gun arm and heard a terrible metal on metal sound.

Rockwell landed and grimaced in pain as his leg began to bleed.  “God dammit!  She shot me in the fucking leg.  Why does everyone shoot me in the leg?!”

 Stone was standing over him.  “I warned you, now look what’s happened to your gun.”

Rockwell looked down at the gun and saw the terrible sight.  The Librarian’s third shot had hit the clip and mangled it.

“You’re screwed.”  Stone stated.

“Fuck you!” Rockwell yelled back.  “Can’t you ever be constructive?!”

“Hey, I am your paranoid delusion.  You want me to be constructive, make me constructive.” Stone replied.

“Are you talking to me?” The Librarian asked, confused.

Rockwell shouted back from behind cover.  “Does it sound like I’m talking to you?!”

“It is a fair question.  After all, there is no one else here.” She rebutted.

Rockwell shook his head.  “I showed up in a Hawaiian shirt and a fedora in the middle of September with a tommy-gun.”

The Librarian was befuddled and shouted back.  “This is all true but I don’t understand how this justifies talking to yourself.”

“It doesn’t.  “Rockwell explained.  “It justifies the crazy, and the crazy justifies anything.”

She seemed to accept that, but the conversation had given Rockwell time to think. “Hey, any way we could make a deal?”

Rockwell knew there wasn’t.

“Of course, but why?” She asked.

“You last shot hit the drum on my magazine.  I’m out.  Listen, you spare me, I give you Patty and Creegan.”

Rockwell was not going to give her Creegan or Patty.

“Alright, your life for theirs.”  She said.  “We have a deal.  Throw out the damaged magazine”

They had no deal.

Rockwell detached the damaged clip and tossed it off the cover and into the middle of the room.

“Okay, I’m coming out.” Rockwell said before bracing the rifle against his should and gripping it tightly.

One shot at this.

Rockwell stood and brought the machine gun to bear on the confused Librarian.  He pulled the trigger.

The tommy-gun kicked and fired, sending a single bullet though The Librarian’s throat.

She stammered as her carotid artery spewed thick dark red blood.  Her eyes filled with the look of horror.

The tommy-gun had a bullet in the chamber, which protected the round from the damage to the clip.

The Librarian tried to bring the handgun up to fire on Rockwell but lost her strength and dropped the gun, lurching forward and crashing to the tile floor in a pool of her own blood.

Rockwell walked out from behind the cover then turned back to Stone.  “How about that shit?”

Stone shrugged.  “Not bad.”

Rockwell’s face contorted.  “Not Bad?!  Are you fucking kidding me?!  I just pimped the bitch with no clip in my gun and a bullet in my fucking leg!”

“She’s five foot ten and wearing a sundress.”  Stone down-played the accomplishment.

“The auto shotgun wasn’t wearing a god damn sundress!” Rockwell began.  “You know what?  I don’t know why I expect things to change. You were a fuck when you were alive and you a bigger fuck now that you’re dead!  You just pop in from your ethereal pedestal and tell me I fucking suck before popping back out again!  You know what, dickhead?  I would like to take this fucking time to remind you who’s still breathing.  Me!  That’s right, mother fucker.  Me!”

They stared at each other in silence for a short time.

“Are you done?” Stone asked.

“I’m never done, asshole.” Rockwell replied, “I ain’t ever done.”

****

“We should go.” Patty grumbled from the backseat getting antsy as the gunfire in the house had come to an abrupt stop.

“Give him a second.” Creegan said, staring at the house intently, wishing he could see what was happening inside.

“Him?!” Patty asked raising her voice.  “It’s him I’m worried about.  Give me a bitch in a sundress any day!”

“He could have killed us on the deck, but he went after her.”  Creegan explained.  “He’s here to help.”

Patty’s eyebrow went up.  “I doubt he understands the meaning of the word help.”

Jim didn’t respond, which left a short silence.  Patty was about to respond when the house exploded into beautiful orange and red flames.  The house had been made to burn from the inside and became an inferno fast.

It was at that time that they both saw him, limping across the yard toward the car.  The fire behind him scorched the skies.  It was as if hell had failed to catch the lunatic again and was throwing a temper tantrum.

Rockwell was smiling.

“You sure about this?” Patty asked as they both watched the frightening scene play out like a bad movie.

 “I am one hundred percent positive, Patty…” Creegan answered.  “That I am absolutely not sure about this.”