Warhol's Prophecy

114

THE FIRST BURST of gunfire swept over her head, missing her by less than six inches.

Hailey threw herself down, feeling the air part above her, shredded by the high-velocity shells.

She saw holes blasted in the double-doors. Then, to her horror, she saw them open. Saw people standing there.

Security guards.

The second burst took out two men. Hailey screamed as she saw one reel backwards, his right eye socket drilled empty by a bullet.

The other man dropped to his knees, hands clasped to his stomach as if to hold the blood in. She noted, with horror, that part of his lower intestine was bulging out through the gaping hole in his belly, like a bloodied swollen worm. He fell forward.

Hailey made another dash for the door, and this time made it.

She threw herself to the floor, then rolled. Chanced a look over her shoulder to see if Walker was pursuing her.

He wasn’t.

Find a phone. Get the police here now, while there’s still someone left alive.

The foyer was deserted.

When the shooting had begun, she assumed that anyone else in the hotel had fled. Or perhaps, even now, some were cowering in their rooms.

The reception area was totally empty.

She looked around desperately, the rattle of gunfire still filling her ears.

Deafened by the continuing blasts, her face bloodied, her head reeling, she staggered towards the reception desk.

Towards the phone.

She lifted the receiver and jabbed out three nines.

Tears were coursing down her cheeks.

She waited for the phone to be answered.

Waited . . .

Were Becky and Rob already dead?

Waited . . .

Her daughter and her husband, both riddled with bullets?

She looked towards the open ballroom doors, expecting Walker to emerge at any minute – his weapons aimed at her.

The phone was still ringing.

Inside the ballroom the bursts of fire were replaced by an appalling silence, now broken only by screams of agony and moans of suffering.

He must be reloading yet again, she thought, her body racked by sobs.

Jesus, how much fucking ammunition did he have with him?

To Hailey it seemed as if this nightmare had been happening for hours.

Less than six minutes had actually passed since he’d fired the first shot.

‘Emergency here. Which service do you require?’ She heard the calm voice in her ear.

‘Police and ambulance,’ she said, trying to control her gasping. ‘Please hurry.’

‘Can you give me your name?’ the voice asked.

‘Help me,’ Hailey shrieked.

‘I need your name and . . .’

‘The Pavilion Hotel. For God’s sake, send someone to the Pavilion Hotel now, please,’ she begged and dropped the phone.

Inside the ballroom the shooting had begun again.