5 Bad Moon Read Online Free PDF Page A

shooters don’t wait.
    Tozzi didn’t say a word. He didn’t want to provoke him. He turned his head slightly to the left.
    The guy pushed his face back around with his free hand. “I said don’t turn around!”
    Tozzi’s heart was thumping with relief. Thank God he didn’t shoot. Now he knew that the guy was holding the gun with his right hand.
    He considered the possibility of an aikido move. Turn quick to the right toward the hand with the gun, and roll to the guy’s shoulder, take his wrist at the same time and control the gun, pull his arm forward to take his balance, then swing it back up and fold it behind his head, pointing the hand and the gun to the ground, forcing him to fall over onto his back. Keep control of the gun and point it in his face. Kote gaeshi from a stick-’em-up attack. Not the easiest throw, but one he’d done before, one that could be on his black-belt test.
    Tozzi took a breath and let it out slowly to calm himself. As the gunman pressed the barrel into his back again, he started his move, turning nice and smooth, quick but not rushing it, putting himself shoulder to shoulder with the guy, pulling him forward to take his balance, then swinging the arm up and over, twisting his hand behind his head until he fell backward and hit the pavement. The guy still had the gun, but Tozzi had a good grip over the hand so that the weapon was pointed back in the guy’s shadowy face.
    “Hey! What the f—”
    “Let go of the gun,” Tozzi said.
    “Fuck you, man.”
    “Let go of the—”
    “Tozzi? I’m sorry about what happened in there.”
    Tozzi looked up. He recognized the pouty voice calling to him. Stacy Viera was standing on the corner five car-lengths away, a stacked silhouette in heels under the streetlamp.
    “Stacy, go get Gib—”
    A loud wet crack cut him short. The gun had gone off. A hot poker seared through Tozzi’s thigh. The powder burn singed his pants, and the stink filled his nostrils. Tozzi clutched his thigh and clenched his face. Shit! Stacy had distracted him. He’d let up on his grip and lost control of the gun. The bastard had pulled the friggin’ trigger. Shit!
    The gunman rolled over and scrambled to his feet. Tozzi couldn’t be sure in the dark, but he just assumed the guy still had the gun. Stooped over, holding his leg, Tozzi dropped to one knee, the blood draining out of his face. He groped for the gun in his ankle holster.
    “Tozzi! What happened? Are you all right?”
    Stacy was running toward them. He could hear her heels clicking on the pavement. Jesus Christ!
    “Get down! Get behind a car!”
    Tozzi expected the bastard to plug her, then empty his gun into him. But when he glanced up, he saw that the guy had his hands to his sides. Tozzi couldn’t make out his face in the dark, but it seemed like the guy was just staring at her.
    “Holy shit … ” the bastard whispered.
    “This is bad. Very bad.”
    Tozzi whipped his head toward this second voice. He squinted into the shadows between the parked cars. He struggled to get his gun, tearing at the holster and ripping the Velcro straps. He was getting light-headed and he felt like throwing up, but he was determined to keep it together.
    He got his gun out and pointed it up at his attacker. “Freeze,” he croaked.
    The bastard suddenly fired down at him, the muzzle flash lighting the street for a microsecond. Tozzi heard the ping of the bullet piercing the car door just above his head.
    “Freeze!” Tozzi shouted.
    The gunman turned to bolt. Tozzi fired over the man’s head, but he didn’t stop. Tozzi leaned on the car and hauled himself up to pursue, but his leg couldn’t take the weight and it gave way under him. He collapsed to the ground, flat on his belly, his cheek pressed against the wet asphalt. He heard running footsteps splashing through puddles down the block. Under the streetlights in the distance, he saw two running figures, one big, the other small. The big guy seemed to be pushing