Bitesize 4.7

Don't even ask.
Bitesize 4.7

The car screeched to a stop outside what Ed hoped was Max's house. It was a modern inner city terraced house, probably rented for its location rather than Max's main dwelling. Ed stepped up to the door an rapped upon it. He waited a while but there was no reply. There were too many people about to do anything drastic and instead Ed told the others to follow and they ran off down the street. They cornered at the end of the terrace and found a rear passageway allowing access to the back gardens of the properties. Thankfully they were empty and Ed counted along, stopping at the one that should belong to Max. The rear windows of the property all had their curtains drawn and Ed couldn't see through. He tried the rear door but it was, unsurprisingly, locked. Ed looked around, making sure the coast was still clear.
"Grace. This small window above the door handle."
Grace was already transforming behind him and soon her clenched wolf fist was smashing through the little window. Ed reached a hand in past the broken glass and felt for the knob of the Yale lock inside. He found it and twisted but still the door didn't give. With a sigh he realised that the mortis lock below the handle must be in place.
"Ok, do it." he said, stepping back and allowing Grace to hurl her body weight at the door. He kept a look out, expecting someone to respond to the noise as Grace battered the door until it gave way. When the door finally flung itself inwards Ed and Grace entered. Katia stayed by the back door.
"Go on." she said, "I'll make sure no one comes in to investigate."
Ed nodded and he and Grace made their way into Max's kitchen. It was almost spotless and worringly, no breakfast bowls or unfinished washing up. Ed drew his gun and tried the door from the kitchen. It opened straight into the lounge and there, sitting on the couch with his back to them was Maximilian. He was staring straight ahead, at a large mirror on the wall.
"Maximilian Haas?" Ed asked, pausing in the doorway.
There was no response and Ed took a few cautious steps forward. He circled around the sofa until he could see Max clearly. The young looking guy was sitting perfectly still, staring at his own reflection. In his lap he held a pistol.
"Max." said Ed again, more firmly. Behind Max, Grace was coming round from the other side of the couch. Suddenly Max leapt to his feet, brandishing the gun at Ed. Ed brought his own gun up, the two aiming the weapons at each other, barely two feet apart. Max's eyes were crazed and his head shook as he pointed the gun at Ed. Grace had stopped in her tracks, not wanting to risk Max getting a shot off. Ed stared at him.
"Put the gun down Max."
Max didn't respond. Ed saw his hand shaking, saw a moment's hesitation in his eyes.
"I'm going to put my gun down." he said, slowly and clearly. He looked into Max's eyes and lowered the gun just fractionally.
"No Ed. Why not shoot him?"
The voice came from inside Ed's own head. Against his will his hand raised the gun back up.
"Ugh, no." he grimaced as his finger applied pressure to the trigger. Something was stopping him and Ed fought with all his willpower not to squeeze the trigger. He could feel his finger twitching, close to firing. He tried to call out to Grace but couldn't control his mouth. He couldn't even look away. His gaze was locked on Max's eyes. Max too was staring at him, with the same confused, frightened look that Ed imagined himself to have. He managed a glance at Max's hand. It's movements mirrored Ed's. Both men seemingly fighting not to be the first to fire. Inside, Ed was screaming at himself not to fire, to relinquish his hold on the weapon but he couldn't.
It all happened in a flash. Ed heard a smashing sound, the sound of glass breaking. His finger slammed down on the trigger and at the same instant he felt his hand swing away, as though the force preventing it doing so had been yanked away. He heard the shot, felt the recoil. The gun fell from his grasp and Ed collapsed to his knees on on the floor. A fiery pain burned in his left shoulder and instinctively he reached up to feel it. It was warm and wet and as he pulled his hand away and looked at his fingers he saw blood. He clutched his shoulder and raised his gaze. Max was on his knees in front of him, sobbing. The gun hung limply from his hand, a wisp of smoke leaving the barrel. He seemed unhurt and Ed raised his view up to where Grace stood by the smashed mirror. Just further to the right of her was a television. The screen too was shattered and Ed could only guess that it was his bullet that hit it. He braced himself and lifted his hand from his shoulder, twisting his neck to look at it. Max's bullet had grazed a furrow clean across it and looking behind him Ed could see where the bullet had struck the wall. He gripped it again and slowly rose to his feet. There was a moment of dizziness but he fought it down.
"Max." he said.
Max looked up at him.
"I... I'm sorry. I couldn't stop it... I didn't want to..."
"It's ok."
As Max looked down Ed motioned at Grace and she transformed back to her human form behind him as Ed distracted him.
"Max, listen to me. You're still in danger. I can help. I can explain. But we have to leave, now."
The sobbing man nodded, weakly rising to his feet.
"Where?"
"England." said Ed, "We have to go right now. We'll explain everything when we get there."
"But..."
"No buts Max. Do you know who you saw?"
"It was him... Crowley." He shuddered, "That was so long ago."
"Back when you were still Werner Schmitt?"
Max looked surprised.
"I know all about it Max. About Crowley. About you. About the others."
"The others? They're still alive?"
"Some of them. We have Odolf with us in England."
Max looked down at the gun in his hand and tossed it aside.
"Ok. Let's go."