Grinning, I release the handle on the second grenade, wait a moment, then toss it into the living room.
This time they scream in annoyance and pain.
Yeah, they weren’t expecting the second one.
Moving into the living room, I throw my knife with pinpoint accuracy and watch as it lodges in the throat of the fucker closest to me. His hands jump up from his assault rifle and go for his throat. Rushing up to him, I grab his body and spin it around.
Dropping my Glock, I reach around him and take hold of the rifle he has dangling in front of him.
Lifting the rifle, I peek over his shoulder and see his own guys trying to figure out what to do.
That’s tough shit for them.
Pulling the trigger, I let out a quick three-round burst at the next person in line.
Accuracy from this angle is almost impossible, but hitting the guy in his knee, his nuts, and his helmet seems to work.
He falls to the floor, either dead or wishing he was dead.
Movement to my right instantly draws my attention. Another man lifts his arm to fire at me. I guess he’s past the whole not shooting at a friend issue.
Bullets tear into the corpse I’ve been using as a shield, and one rips through the arm, punching into my chest like a sledgehammer.
Fuck.
Getting hit with a vest on is a feeling I’ll never get used to.
Grunting, I fall back slightly as the man shoots another round at me.
Bullets tear through the corpse’s unarmored sections, ripping at my clothes.
One bullet manages to lance through my calf and the nasty graze lights up, erupting in fire.
Shit.
This body isn’t going to hold up for much longer.
Screaming in anger, I can feel the rage in me begging for release.
Hoisting the body up, I start to jog toward the fucker firing at me. With each step I take, I pull the trigger on the rifle I’m trying to use.
I may as well be shooting blanks though for all the damage it doesn’t do to the asshole in front of me.
My shots, however, cause just enough distraction for me to get in close and topple all three of us to the ground in a pile of limbs.
I’ve lost my knife somewhere and the rifle I was firing has run dry.
“You motherfucker!” I scream at the man beneath me as I pull the pin attached to a flashbang on the dead cop’s vest.
Rolling as far away as I can, I cringe when the flashbang goes off in our mess of shit.
For the next minute, I regret my very existence. Especially as I struggle to shake off the screaming whistles in my ears and head while I check to see if the fucker is still alive.
When I see him roll away from the dead body, I groan.
“Why don’t you fucking die!” I bellow and slowly stand up, using my now fucked-up beyond all repair couch as support.
He pushes up on his hands and knees and I hobble over to him. Grabbing him by the helmet, I yank and drag his ass toward the front of the living room.
I’m happy as fuck I’ve kept up my cardio because he’s making it a bitch to drag his ass over to my fucking iron skillet.
Pulling the helmet off the fucker’s head, I grab the skillet and look into his dazed eyes.
“You got something on your mind?” I ask then slam the skillet into his unprotected head.
It takes me exactly four hard hits before I’ve completely caved in his head and splattered blood and brain bits all over me.
19
Sophia
Dumped face-first into the backseat of a police SUV, I immediately try to push myself up, struggling with my hands cuffed behind my back.
“Go, go, go!” someone shouts as the doors open and slam shut.
One man squeezes into the seat in front of me and another pushes in from the back. Cramming me between them.
“This is a stupid idea,” Dickers growls as the SUV lurches forward, the tires squealing against pavement.
The motion pushes me against the seat and throws me off balance.
“What’s so stupid about it?” Trent asks angrily from somewhere around my feet.
Focused on trying to slide my knees forward so I can get some leverage to push up, I twist my head enough to see that he is indeed in the back with me.
Noticing my attention, Trent glances at me then scowls. “Here, let me help you.”
“All of it!” Dickers bellows from the driver’s seat as Trent grabs me by the arm and helps me sit up. “This whole plan of yours is fucking stupid!”
“It fucking worked!” Trent shouts back.
“That remains to be seen,” Dickers snarls and then I feel his eyes on me.
Glancing up as I get situated on the edge of the seat, I see him glaring at me through the rearview mirror with murder in his eyes.