Chapter 9: Staring Down the Barrel

There were already people in the apartment.  We didn't see this coming.  It wasn't the police, I could tell that much, because the police don't make it a habit of sliding a gun barrel against the back of your head while they ask you who you are.

'What ya doin' over there?' spoke another voice.

I could hear the gun man behind me turn in his leather jacket to shout behind him, 'Moron, I'm pointin' my gun at someone.'

'Alls I see is you threatening to shoot the wall, Coop.'

It clicked for me.  I was invisible unless I did things.  Slowly I leaned forward until the last of my hairs fell off the tip of the barrel, and I shut my eyes hoping that would work.

I heard Coop shout 'He's right--', and then fall silent.  'He was right there.'  

My heart pounded something awful, I could feel it in my eyes.  I decided to turn, to look.  I put my hands tightly to my side and shifted on my feet, careful not to touch anything as I did so.

I looked down the barrel of a gun, and found myself praying to a god I never believed in. 

The gunman held the gun out still, and stared in my direction with  a squint in his eyes.  I doubted the power of Pendragon's charms to withstand the scrutiny.  He was looking right at me, but I could see him struggling with trying to keep me in his mind.

Ah, I thought.  I'm not invisible.  I'm forgettable.  I stepped to the side to see if the gun barrel would follow me.  It didn't.  Finally the man called 'Coop' put the gun down and turned to his partner.  

'You done having a Mexican stand off with the lamp?' said the partner.  I could see him now.  A large, robust man in a suit.  Nothing fancy, just a sports coat.  He wore those leather gloves you see in mob movies when people don't want their prints all over the place.  That made sense, considering he was standing over the dead body from my vision.

It was hard to see him there.  To know my vision was real, and that I watched him die without doing anything to stop it.

Coop walked over to the corpse as well and knelt to check pockets of the robe.  He didn't find anything, but he took a moment to close the robe up for the poor guy, and he tied it off.

'Anything?'

'No,' said Coop as he stood.  He was a lanky guy, too thin even for the suit he was wearing.  His gloves looked oversized.  His spiked blonde hair was out of place, though.  Like someone took a skateboarder for Union Square and put him in a mob costume.  'Can we maybe get a blanket for him?'  

Hard to believe this was the same guy that was just pointing a gun at me.  He looked like he cared about how the guy was found by the police.

'Nah, leave him,' said the partner apathetically, 'Can't have it look like people was here after the murder.' He spoke with more authority, than suggestion.  'We find the rock, and we leave.'

Find the rock, I thought to myself.  Whatever this rock is, I have to get it before they do, and get out of here...