He gets off one shot, and the scent of gunpowder burns my nose. I squeeze harder. The slide catches on my palm along the ejector port. The magazine tries to feed the next bullet up, but my hand jams the weapon.
Hurts like a bitch, but he can’t shoot me like this.
Dimitri keeps pulling the trigger, aiming any which way he can. While I’m distracted, he slams his forehead against mine.
The world tilts again, but I hold on tight as he tries to roll out from under me. He can’t manage one-handed, so he releases the gun and punches me in the kidney. I return the favor by grabbing his broken arm and twisting.
His face blanches, and sweat breaks out on his forehead. He punches me in the gut, then rams his heel into my shin.
I grunt as pain lances up my leg.
It’d be fucking great if the universe could stop attacking my damn lower limbs.
My wince gives him enough room to slip free. At the last minute, he kicks my broken rib. My vision goes white, agony searing through my torso.
I grit my teeth and keep moving, instinctively putting space between us before my vision fully clears. Heading toward the side of the cave, I smack my hand against what I hope is the wall. The gun stuck in the meat of my palm shakes loose and clatters to the stone.
Once my sight comes back, it’s too late.
Dimitri points another weapon at my head from four feet away, a sick grin on his bruised face.
My stomach lurches to my feet.
“Get fucked!” Nika’s voice rings out from somewhere to my left as a black shape streaks through the room.
The object smashes Dimitri in the face. He falls backward, slipping in the mud we tracked in through the entrance. I blink down at the enormous hardcover Russian Bible lying open on the cave floor. Call me a pessimist, but I think purging Dimitri of sin will require more than a strongly worded parable.
Dimitri gurgles, blood pouring out of his fucked-up nose. When he aims the gun at Nika and squeezes the trigger, I charge.
Air flutters against my cheek as the bullet whizzes over my shoulder toward the back wall.
Nika yelps.
Rage courses through me, turning my vision red.
Pulling out my last knife, I throw it with every ounce of strength and fury I possess.
The blade buries itself in Dimitri’s right shoulder.
He doesn’t flinch, too numbed by drugs. Just like I thought.
The gun swivels toward my chest, but the knife in his arm slows him down.
I keep running even as a boom reverberates through the room. A chunk of rock tumbles from the wall several feet over Dimitri’s head. I glance back to find a wide-eyed Nika holding the gun I tossed aside.
“Aim for the chest!” I return my attention to Dimitri while continuing to yell out advice. “Exhale. Squeeze slowly.”
Dimitri pushes himself to his feet, attempting to maintain some distance.
I lunge for his gun, careful not to get in Nika’s line of fire. I’d rather not get shot.
Dimitri jerks back, either dodging my reach or Nika’s round as a stalagmite shatters between us. Rock flies in all directions. Small shards scratch my cheek, but the majority rip into the back of Dimitri’s hand.
Even with the drugs in his system, that’s significant damage. The gun falls from his slackened grip, and he flees.
As he does, Nika shoots again. The bullet misses by an inch. From the corner of my eye, I catch the white streak of her hair as she charges forward.
Scooping up the second gun, I sprint after Dimitri.
