I gave him an amused look. “You were saying?”
“Still a better shot than you,” he said, eyes on the threats in front of us.
“That’s debatable at this point,” Dad replied. “I’ll be the judge of that after this.”
“Shit,” Isaac muttered. Now that it was a contest, he was going to be even more driven to beat me. He was the oldest, after all.
For most people they’d probably be horrified to hear us. They’d be terrified at getting shot at. Disgusted that we were making this into a game. And they’d probably be downright offended about us joking around. But this was life for us. All of us had been made into warriors thanks to our time in the military.
I made my way quickly up the creaky old metal stairs, to get a better view. All the fuckers were hiding behind shit that was shoved into the corners near the doorway. Turning, I almost collided with Isaac. Dad was right behind him. They’d wanted to get the lay of the land as well. Couldn’t blame them. “You two drop back down to the…” I gestured with my head. What the hell do you call a room filled with obsolete machinery? “Go to the next room, take opposite sides. I’ll draw them in, right past you, and you can nail them in the back as they pour through.”
“No way, I’ll do it,” Isaac said.
“I think we proved that you can’t even outrun an old man. I’m the fastest,” I argued back. “Don’t fucking argue, just go. Besides, I’ll bring them nice and close so you can’t miss.”
“Fuck you, I don’t need a handicap.” But he was already running. So was Dad. I fired a few rounds sparingly to keep the shit heads from closing in while they made their way down and into the back half of the factory. After a solid ten-count in my head, I went down the stairs, swapping a fresh mag as I went, stood at the foot of the stairs, and started to fire.
I walked deliberately backwards, firing two shots to the left, then two shots to the right. Twisting to the equipment room, I began my mad dash towards our trap, firing blindly over my shoulder as I ran full speed. They did exactly what I expected. As soon as I wasn’t shooting consistently anymore, the chase was on. I could hear boots pounding on concrete floors behind me. But I had a head start, and odds were I was faster than the majority of the fuck sticks.
I didn’t have time to survey the new room as I passed through the door, to see where Dad and Isaac were. It didn’t matter, I followed my instincts, knowing they would be well positioned. In front of me was a giant…lathe? Giant metal machine that would stop bullets, which was the only thing that really mattered right now. I knew it would stop bullets because I could see the sparks flying off of it from the stray rounds being fired from behind me.
I ran full bore toward it, planning to take cover. Most people would assume a man my size couldn’t jump. Or run for that matter. They always assumed that size meant slow and awkward. Thing was, I never skipped leg day. I launched up in a hugely infrequent but highly effective dive over the machine, landing in a painful and ungraceful thud on the other side. Staring up at the ceiling as I got my breath back from the hard landing, I heard shouts, cursing, and a lot of firing.
My own groans were drowned out by the screams of Collective assholes being mowed down by Dad and Isaac. I forced myself to my knees, swapped in my last mag, then peered around the side.
“It’s safe for you to come out now,” Isaac mocked.
“Hey, I had the hardest job,” I grumbled, getting to my feet.
“I win,” Dad said, a grin on his face.
“Bullshit, these two are mine.”
“Nope, those are my bullets in his back,” Dad said smugly.
“Yeah, but that’s my bullet in his head.”
“So? I have three in his back.”
Isaac kicked the body. “I hit him first, head shot is the kill shot.”
“You don’t know that.”
Isaacs mouth opened and closed silently.
“Dad’s got you there,” I pointed out. “He could’ve nailed him and you hit him on the way down.” Anything to make sure Isaac didn’t win. “Enough screwing around. Those assholes made quite a racket on the way here. Someone will have called the police. And eventually the cops will figure out that we’re here. Let’s get all the bodies inside and then torch the place.”
“Torch it?” Dad asked. “Won’t that draw more attention?”
“Probably, but we don’t have time to smuggle bodies out of here, remove their cars, and scrub this place down for blood and prints. The only option is to torch it and their bodies. Let the cops determine it was a gang fight gone wrong, which is largely true. For them.” I followed Isaac’s lead and kicked another body for emphasis. It was more than these bastards deserved.
CHAPTER 12
Devyn
Letting out a tired sigh, I carried the trash bag to my door and opened it. The little yelp I gave was pure reflex as I saw a man sitting in a metal chair in the hallway, facing my door. He was leaning back on the rear two legs of the chair, shoving food from a plate into his mouth. He froze, fork halfway to his lips when I opened the door.
I blinked at him, then took a careful step backward, into the safety of my apartment and shut the door. Looking down at the bag in my hand, I debated on what to do. It wasn’t like other people didn’t live in this apartment complex, but…the way he was sitting in front of my door? It was obvious he was there for me. What wasn’t obvious to me was why.
