Swords of Waar Read Online Free PDF

knock on the front door downstairs, and Leigh wailing, “She’s upstairs! And she has a gun!”
    She was answered by reassuring cop murmurs and the squawk of cop radios.
    I flipped over the case, spilling it. Checkers, chess pieces and Monopoly money. I tore open another one. Postcards and souvenir spoons. I kicked it aside and spun around. I’d cleared all the suitcases around the chimney and it wasn’t in any of them, and the whispering was going crazy now, like the last act of an opera. My whole head was ringing, and I was hearing creaks and squeaks as the cops tip-toed up to the second floor. Where the fuck was it! Under the fucking floorboards?
    I leaned against the chimney and mopped my forehead with the sleeve of my hoodie, catching my breath and wondering how I was going to tear up heavy wooden planks. I froze. The singing was right here! It was drowning everything out. I stepped back and stared at the chimney.
    “Norman Prescott Kline, you sneaky son-of-a-bitch.”
    I looked around for something heavy. There were a pair of greenish bronze statues of big-boned gals in long robes looking toward heaven and holding up laurel wreaths. I grabbed one under the tits and swung her at the chimney. She was sturdy and her base was marble. It did some damage.
    I spit out brick dust and grinned. I’d be through in five.
    “This is the police! Slide your weapon to the top of the stairs where we can see it and come forward with your hands on your head.”
    Goddamn it, not now! I was almost there! I had to stall ’em. Time to play as crazy as Leigh thought I was. The cops killed burglars, but they were always real nice to wackos who were a danger to themselves.
    “Don’t come up! I’ll kill myself! I’ve got a gun!”
    There was a pause. I could hear the cops whispering to each other. I swung the statue again, and cracked mortar. Bricks were hanging loose.
    “Hey up there, take it easy! What are you doing?”
    I laughed like a maniac and swung again. “I’m digging my own grave!”
    A brick tumbled out of the chimney, and more cracked and shifted.
    “Come on, now. Stop that. Put down the gun and let’s talk this out. What do you want?”
    Smash! I hit the chimney again. “I want out! I can’t stand it anymore!”
    “Well, we’re here to get you out. We’re here to help.”
    Another swing and the marble base went flying, spanging off a stack of cookie tins. But bricks went flying too, and through the gap I could see wood. I dropped the statue and started tearing out the loose bricks with my bare hands. There was an old wooden box back there, all scarred up, with writing burned into it—Army of the Confederacy.
    “Hey, did you hear us? We’re here to help.”
    I shouted over my shoulder as I worked my fingers behind the box and tried to lever it out of the hole. “I don’t want your help! I wanna leave this world behind!”
    I heard a step on the stair. “Listen, I’m just gonna come up there and we’ll talk this—”
    “Don’t come up! I’ll shoot myself! I swear I will!”
    The cop retreated. “Don’t do that. Come on. This is nothing to kill yourself over. You haven’t hurt anybody. We can resolve this.”
    I braced a foot against the chimney and wrenched as hard as I could. The box ripped out, showering bricks everywhere, and caught me in the chest. It was like an engine block. I staggered back and went ass over tits over one of the suitcases I’d dumped, the box crushing my ribs then slipping off and slamming to the floor.
    “She’s down! She’s down! Go go go!”
    I sat up, gasping, and saw the shadows of the cops charging up the stairs, guns out. I looked at the box. The lid had split and something inside was glowing a pale lemonade green. Time to go.
    I shoved the lid aside. There was another rocket-finned clock thing in there, just like the one in the cave. I stretched for the gem in its center.
    The cops saw me reaching. “She’s going for a gun!”
    The last thing I heard as my