Page 78 of Out for Blood
I wipe my blade across the dead guard’s hoodie before guiding it back into the sheath wedged right beside my vest.
We melt back into the shadows and push further into the shipping yard.
The storm masks the sound of our approach as we close in on the corner of the gate.
Voices filter through the rain.
Two guards this time and they are laughing.
I peek around the edge with the confidence of repetition.
One slants on the corner of the gate under a security camera while the other stands nearby the loading dock drinking from a bottle.
Their weapons sit low on their bodies, their guard even lower.
Tyler touches my arm once.
The storm peels back the darkness for a fleeting moment, unveiling the entire yard before dropping it over everything once more.
Years of practice take over, and we move as one.
Tyler converges on the first guard before he can react, smashing him hard into the gate pole with enough force to crack his skull against the metal.
The sound is smothered by the thunder.
I barrel into the second guard.
His eyes widen in shock as he spots me, his hand diving for the gun at his hip. My knife drives into his thigh. He screams, and I use the momentum to ram him backward into the loading dock railing before he can recover.
Rain pours over both of us while he struggles furiously beneath my grip.
“You fucking bastard,” I hiss.
At last, his hand finds his weapon.
I wrench the knife free and bury it directly into his hand.
The gun clatters into a puddle.
Then my forearm crushes against his throat. He gags and thrashes, panic overtaking him. Another flash of lightning reveals the fear blooming in his eyes.
For one split second, I see every man who ever touched me against my will.
Every face. Every laugh. Every locked door.
No. Not now.
I know where I am.
I know this isn’t then.
But my brain doesn’t seem to care.
The past and present cloudily merge together.
I blink. Once. Twice.
Trying to wrench my focus back to the here and now.
