If only there was some way to record this, Drake thought. If only he could tape this moment so he could watch it again and again.
The great Sam Temple, bleeding and cringing and screaming out in pain as Drake brought his whip hand down again and again.
“Does it hurt, Sam?” Drake gloated. “It kind of hurt when you burned my arm off. Do you think it hurts like that?”
Again. Slash!
And the reward of a terrible groan.
“They said I wet myself while they were cutting off the stump,” Drake said. “Have you done that, yet, Sam? Have you peed yourself, Sam?”
Sam was on his side now, arms over his face, covering himself. The last blow hadn’t even brought a scream. Just a shudder. Just a spasm.
“Time to mess up that face of yours,” Drake snarled, and drew back to bring all his force to bear.
Down came the whip hand.
There was a blur. Drake wasn’t even sure he had seen anything.
And then it was his own voice crying out in shock and horror. It didn’t even hurt at first, didn’t hurt, just…
Eighteen inches of his tentacle arm lay quivering, jerking spasmodically on the floor like a dying snake.
Blood sprayed from the severed end. He drew it back to stare at the stump.
The wire had appeared from nowhere. Wrapped around one of the catwalk ladders at one end. And at the other end, Brianna, holding the wire tight.
“Hey, Drake,” Brianna said. “I heard about your idea for cutting me up with wire. Clever.”
Drake’s mouth gaped open, but no sound came.
The suddenness of it left him dazed, unable to respond. Frozen.
The severed end still jerked and writhed. Like it had a life of its own.
“The remote!” Sam cried out.
Drake spread his fingers.
The remote fell.
“Breeze!” Sam shouted.
Drake spun away and ran.
Brianna’s body moved faster than humanly possible.
Her brain moved at normal speed. So it took her several split seconds to see the remote falling, to realize that if Sam was yelling about it in his condition, it was very, very important.
Another split second to guess that the glowing blue was not a swimming pool.
The remote fell.
Brianna dove.
Her hand gripped the remote just nine inches above the surface of the water.
If she plunged into that water…