Page 160 of Random in Death

Filled with power, he shoved her onto the platform. Pulsing with power, he fell on her, then tore at her top.

“I want you to put my penis in your mouth, but we only have six minutes, so we’ll just have intercourse.”

He pushed her down. “No, that’s not what they say, the ones you lie down for. We’re going to fuck. I’m going to fuck you. Say it. Say: ‘Fuck me, Francis. Fuck me hard.’”

“I—I don’t want to.”

He slapped her, first with the palm of his hand, then with the back. And that felt marvelous.

“But you will. Scream. I want you to scream while I take what you wouldn’t give me. You won’t fight me, you can’t, but you can scream.”

When she did, he went so hard he wondered he didn’t implode.

Pushing up, he started unbuttoning the baggies. “Now say what I told you.”

She choked out a sob.

And lights filled the tunnel.

Stunned, he dropped to his knees, slapped a hand over her mouth. “Shut up. Don’t make a sound. If you do, I’ll kill you.”

Her eyes, so big and tawny, stared at him. His penis was so hard it hurt.

Just a glitch, he thought. A stupid glitch. It would go dark any second, and then.

“Francis Bryce, this is the police!”

Disbelief flooded him. His ears rang, and his breath began to hitch.

He fumbled in the trench for the second syringe, but he could hear them coming, closer. Closer.

As he had at the theater, he panicked. Throwing his body at the emergency exit, he ran.

Eve heard the weeping, soft and desolate under the shouted objections and catcalls of riders. And the shrill of the alarm on the emergency door.

She stepped over, skirted the wall.

Alive. One injection mark, so she should stay that way.

“You’re okay. We’re the police. Roarke, take the girl.”

“He’s got that second syringe. You bloody well mind my cop.”

Then she was gone, out the door.

Roarke knelt down to the girl, who trembled and wept. “There now, darling, you’re safe.”

“Kill me if I make a sound,” she whispered.

“He won’t hurt you again. There’s a promise.”

Since he’d left his jacket behind and her shirt was in tatters, he took off his own. “Let’s put this on now, all right? What’s your name?”

“Del.”

“There you are, Del. Can you walk?”

“I don’t know.”