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“Last I saw her, she was in the cage,” I said blankly.
“Call her,” she demanded.
“On the phone?” I asked, keeping my voice monotone, and I could feel the girl’s frustration as she let out a sigh.
“No, you bitch. I have her phone. See?” I felt the girl shift behind me and lifted Kaye’s phone over my right shoulder, strong and steady. I slightly moved my head to get a better look at the left hand that was holding the gun and noticed it slightly shaking.
Hmm. So, she’s right-handed, after all.
“Any particular thing you want me to tell her?” I asked, looking forward back at the cage.
“Just call ’er name so she’ll come out,” she snapped.
“Okaaay.” I took a deep breath because what I was about to do would either be great or the last thing I would do on this earth. “Lyrical!” I called.
When we were kids, Kaye and I used to talk about what we would do if we ever found ourselves taken hostage when we one day became Reapers. Our badass eleven-year-old selves believed we could outsmart our attackers. Depending on our codeword, we would let our partner know which hand the weapon was in and if we gave our consent to be stupid. Yep, I was being stupid.
I heard it flying through the air before pain exploded in my left shoulder. Fuck! Thankfully, the move was ingrained over time with as much practice as Kaye and I had done over the years. It was supposed to be simple, a straight shot into that bitch’s hand knocking the gun free. Instead, I got impaled by my own knife, but I wasn’t the only one if I went by the hysterical crying behind me.
“Shit, I’m sorry, Rave!” Kaye called, running out from the shadows.
I turned to face my attacker when she yanked her wrist from the back of my shoulder, causing more damage and both of us to cry out. As she held her wrist to her chest, I noticed she no longer had her gun, so I gritted my teeth and pulled the knife out of my shoulder. I’m no doctor, but at least my training included basic anatomy, and I didn’t think it hit the bone. Lucky for me. Blinking away the tears that obscured my vision, I saw Miss Bitch reaching for the gun.
“You bitch. You’ll pay for that,” she wailed, raising the gun and taking aim at Kaye.
I didn’t hesitate. I reached back to throw my knife, but she suddenly disappeared. She screamed from my left, and I caught sight of her as she was dragged away and into the nearby swamp.
“What the fuck just happened?”
“Must have been one of the alligators,” Kaye said as she picked up her gun and checked the ammo. “There are at least two more gators that I saw, but one of them is massive. Shit. I only have three more bullets.”
Thorn let out a grunt as he slammed into the base of a tree.
‘Thorn!’
Shit, he’s probably knocked out cold.
Junior smiled down at him as he moved aggressively toward him.
Bang!
“Okay… two bullets left,” Kaye said as Junior collapsed to the ground with a hole through his neck and blood pouring out.
“Remind me not to get on your bad side.” I chuckled and put pressure against my shoulder. Fuck that was going to smart later.
“You could never.” She grinned.
‘Rave, I hurt my leg,’ Thorn whined as he tried to stand and began limping our way.
“What’s wrong with Thorn?”
“His leg is fucked up.” I shrugged in frustration and bit my bottom lip as pain shot down my arm with the gesture. Suddenly catching sight of movement low to the ground, I pointed to the area behind him with my good arm, “Shit!”
Kaye raised her gun and took aim, hitting the alligator behind Thorn. Smartly, it turned, fleeing back into the grass.
We ran over to check on Thorn.
“Looks like a bad sprain,” I said.
