Читать книгу Pretty Lethal - Joe Schreiber - Страница 14

‘Run (I’m a Natural Disaster)’ – Gnarls Barkley

I sat up fast, looking around so quickly that I felt my neck pop.

‘Wait – ’ I stared back at the steamer trunk, where something was definitely thumping around inside. ‘Is there somebody in that thing?’

Gobi sighed and climbed off me, sliding from the bed in one graceful move. With the resigned air of a woman going about some onerous but necessary task, she opened the drawer of the nightstand next to the bed and pulled out a pistol, screwing the silencer onto the barrel as she walked over to the trunk.

‘Wait, what is that? What are you doing?’

Gobi pointed the gun at the steamer trunk and pulled the trigger. The silenced gunshots weren’t particularly loud – three metallic champagne corks – and whatever was inside gave a shuddering howl and collapsed to the bottom with a thump. In the frozen moment of realization, I saw smoke drifting out of the bullet holes in the trunk, uncurling like ghostly pigtails in the tastefully recessed lighting.

I floundered off the bed and across the room to my wet pile of clothes, the bathrobe flopping open as I tried to get backwards to the door. Behind me, Gobi’s voice was quiet and stern.

‘Perry.’

‘What?’

‘I told you that I need your help.’

‘Yeah, well, dead bodies are kind of a deal-breaker for me in that department.’

That was when the pounding started outside the door.