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Sleep did not come easily, but it came eventually. I had some verystrange and erotic dreams. Don't ask me what the Peacock feathers meant,I have no idea.Part three.A knock on the door roused me on the Sunday. Bird song filled the airand breeze blew through the open window. Ally's voice came through thedoor."Nicole, it's time to get up. Breakfast is ready."I raised my head from the pillow and glanced about."I'm up, I'm up," I replied. I sat up in bed and looked around. Then Iflopped back on the bed as the memory of the night before filled mywaking thoughts, How Ally and I had kissed. My thoughts were stillmuddled and the half remembered dreams were still flowing through myhead. The clock on the bedside table showed that it was just aftereleven o'clock. After a few moment of staring the ceiling, I got up andheaded to the shower. As I stood there under the hot stream of water, Iattempted to sort my thoughts into some semblance of order. After myshower, headed back into my room and dried. Rachel took her book on the folktales of Indians in the American north-west. We had a fine time: together, comfortable, peaceful. After a few hours we walked home, stopping to get some take-out from Thai Times. After dinner, we went to bed for peaceful togetherness.We cleaned house and lazed about Sunday. Then we got dressed and I drove downtown to Cowper Wharf. After a brief hunt, I located a space that appeared to be legal on Sunday."Do I look okay?" Rachel asked when we were in the lift."Ravishing," I responded.Winnie's door was open and noise filled the vestibule. We just walked in. There must have been two dozen people there. We were most likely the youngest by a decade. We were spotted almost instantly."Oh, there you are! Come in! There are so many folks for you to meet." Winnie was hostess and mistress of ceremonies. She introduced us to a couple near the entry and then towed Rachel off, saying "You must meet the Gallery chair!" Oh, well," I said to the couple. "This way I.
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"No!" Cal screamed, hearing the gunshots echoing in the small sub-basement and seeing two plumes of blood from his cousin's chest. He covered the older man with his body, trying to stop any further bullets. Though he took two on his back, the bullets deflecting away from the armor he still wore, it didn't matter. The damage was done.He yanked his cousin down behind the desk, falling on top of him lightly and then rolling off to come to his knees. The desk between them and Tomas was thick metal; he'd bought two of them on a whim at an office equipment sale. They had been heavy and had taken him the better part of two days to get down here; he'd literally had to take them apart and re-assemble them to move them down the two flights of narrow stairs.He was lucky he'd bought the desks. The five men riddled the desk with gunfire but no bullets penetrated the thick metal."Rico!" Calix was in tears, his hands against his cousin's chest trying to will the blood to stop coming out. He'd killed.

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