The Life Engineered Read Online Free Page A

me, he started pointing his gun erratically. First at the boy, then me, then Anthony, then me again and back to the boy. He repeated this pattern over and over, each time taking another step forward.
    The closer he got, the more nervous and out of control Roach appeared to be. Sweat glistened on his forehead, and his left hand was more unstable than ever. Flashing blue and red lights reflecting off the front window informed us that our backup was finally here.
    When he got to within six paces, Eddy stopped. To reach the door, he’d have to walk between Anthony and me, turning his back to one of us. I could see the panic in his eyes. Dilated pupils darting between the two of us, trying to decide what his gambit should be. Then, as if reaching an epiphany, he settled on my partner. I readied myself, prepared to disarm and incapacitate him the moment opportunity presented itself.
    It didn’t.
    Quickly and with stunning accuracy, Eddy pivoted his pistol and shot again. This fifth bullet found a home in Anthony’s right knee, bringing my partner down like a bag of stones dropped to the floor, with a wail of agony that splintered the ears.
    The attack happened so fast that by the time I reacted, Roach had spun around and was crouching to use the boy as a human shield. The gunshot and resulting chaos broke the child out of his shock-induced paralysis, sending him into screams of panic and tears.
    I leveled my weapon at Eddy’s head but couldn’t find an angle that didn’t endanger the boy further.
    I looked at the blood covering him, staining his shirt and cheeks. It wasn’t his blood. Was it a friend’s? A parent’s? The crisis had done nothing but deteriorate. I caught myself wishing I could just walk away from it, leaving the disaster for others to clean up.
    “Tell . . . Tell those cops out there to get the hell away from here,” Eddy finally spat out.
    Between the moans of pain from poor Ant, the terrified mutterings and sobs of the other trapped clients, and the hostage’s crying, the whole place had become a cacophony of chaos.
    “This is Officer Paulson,” I spoke into my radio. “Clear out the perimeter. The suspect has a hostage. I repeat, the suspect has a hostage.”
    I knew that my colleagues would withdraw, but only so they could establish a larger perimeter, turn off their lights, and wait to see how the situation played out. Hostage negotiators would arrive shortly, along with helicopters and probably a SWAT team that would escalate things further.
    Judging from Eddy’s composure, though, it would be too late for the boy and probably a few others. Roach’s movements were becoming increasingly nervous, his breathing more shallow. Whatever drugs were animating him, they were either kicking in or wearing off. Either way, our man was a ticking time bomb.
    “Eddy? What will it take for you to let these people go?”
    I was in no position to offer him anything. I had a gun trained on him, and he had one pointed at a child. Immunity wasn’t mine to give. I couldn’t procure him more drugs. I had no bargaining chips. The best I could hope for were reasonable terms that I might relay to the cops outside and a chance to buy some time.
    “I want you . . . I want you to put your gun down,” he stammered, struggling to maintain the appearance of control.
    “If I put my gun on the floor, will you let the boy go? I won’t be a threat to you anymore. You’ll be the only one with a weapon here. You’ll have all the power.”
    This seemed to appeal to him. His eyes grew a little wider as he considered my offer. After a moment he nodded nervously.
    Carefully, my hands well in view of him, I knelt to put the weapon on the floor. For a split second I was reassured to see satisfaction on Roach’s face. This was going to work. He was going to let the boy free.
    Then he shot a sixth time.
    The sound of the gunshot reverberated in my ears like a thunderclap, but it was immediately swallowed up. All sounds were. It