Joana cried out as her foot struck something and she half-stumbled. She looked down and saw a thin, lightweight chain coiled at the side of the ramp. One end was attached to an eyebolt in the concrete wall, the other had a swivel fastener to be hooked to the opposite ramp wall when this level was blocked off.
Without stopping to plan out her moves, Joana picked up the free end of the chain and ran across the ramp, dragging the chain behind her. She crouched there beyond the bulkhead out of sight, holding the chain loose and low. It lay all the way across the floor of the ramp, invisible against the gray concrete.
Whirr-click. The skateboard rounded the last corner above her, and the elongated shadow of the boy crossed the chain and spilled out over the nearest row of parked cars.
Joana gripped the end of the chain, her heart hammering. She saw the skateboarder rolling free and fast, coming down the slope. Davy was holding the stem shears in one hand, balancing himself with the other. The mashed-in head swiveled from side to side as the glittery eyes searched for her among the cars.
With all her strength, Joana pulled up on the end of the chain. It jumped from the pavement and caught the racing skateboard between the fat yellow wheels and the fiber glass board. Davy, his momentum unbroken, flew forward while the skateboard stayed hung up oh the chain.
The boy hit the tinted rear window of a Cadillac. His head smashed through the heavy glass and was trapped, impaled there by the jagged shards. The arms and legs thrashed about in a vain effort to free the head.
Joana still crouched by the side of the ramp, holding the chain with the skateboard caught on it. She stared in near-shock at the struggling figure with its head caught on the shark's teeth of glass. As the body flopped about, the raw edges of glass sawed through the neck, exposing tendons, muscles, and windpipe.
From somewhere up above came the squeal of tires. Joana let go the chain and sagged back against the bulkhead. In seconds Glen's Camaro screeched down the ramp to a stop. A piece of the wooden street-level barrier arm clung to the grille.
Glen leaped from the car and ran to her side. From up the incline came the sound of running feet.
On the broad rear deck of the Cadillac the thrashing body of Davy the flower seller abruptly went limp. It hung there, the head immovably caught on the spears of glass. The last of the walkers was at rest.
THE END