Nika hits my shoulders, her arms and legs twining around me like a monkey’s might. “Time to take out the garbage.”
My vision blanks, and I find myself choking on a lemon-fresh scent that sticks to my lips and tongue. She wraps a heavy-duty trash bag over my face, pulling it taut behind my head.
Genius. Using anything and everything at hand as a weapon.
If I could breathe, I might commend her.
My body reacts as all human bodies do when suddenly deprived of oxygen. My lungs heave, my chest constricts, and my mind scrambles with primal panic.
But it’s not my first time dealing with something like this and probably won’t be my last either. So I push all those instincts aside and do what I do best.
Fight back.
With her legs around my chest, under my arms, and her upper body strength keeping the bag in place, dislodging her will be hell.
I’ve faced worse odds, though.
Not able to see, I end up shoulder-checking the wall, stumbling to the side, and dropping to my knees.
Nika rides me down, yanking the bag tighter and wrenching my head back. “Just fucking die already!”
Instinctively, I halt my fall with both hands, then correct myself and collapse to my right. Rolling over onto my back, I crush Nika’s leg. She grunts but doesn’t relent.
Stubborn and strong. If not for the fact that I’m the one she’s trying to kill, I’d admire her tenacity. Not everyone can take a hit like she can and barely flinch.
There’s no slack in the plastic. No air in my lungs.
But I can hold my breath for over four minutes, and that’s a long time for her to maintain this position.
Then again, I’m not sure I want to risk my survival against Nika’s grudge-fueled stamina. She’s already surprised me plenty of times.
Attacking her directly, when I could literally be dead within minutes, is too risky.
Ignoring her and everything else, I bring my hands together, fumble the glove off my right one, and jab my fingers into my mouth.
No good.
I’ve got no nails to break through plastic designed to flex and handle broken glass. All I can do is snap my jaw closed and grit my teeth.
I try again. And again.
My eyes start to bulge from the carbon dioxide. I’ve already pushed myself just to get here. Lactic acid’s built up in my muscles, and I’m fatigued enough without the added asphyxiation.
What strength I have left fades second by second. Ringing pierces my eardrums.
Digging in with my fingers, I push the plastic over my canines until it tears. Once I have that opening, I rip myself a breathing hole and suck air into my burning lungs.
Now I just have to get her off my back and under my control.
Smashing her into a wall or grinding her into the floor won’t work. She’s too resilient. Even pinned against the wall by her throat at the hotel, she didn’t quit until she’d drugged me.
Excruciating pain it is.
Grabbing Nika’s foot by the heel and pad, I start twisting. Either the ankle will break, or she’ll have to shift her leg.
She doesn’t grant me the time.
Instead, she slams her other heel into my side, at the front of my kidney. Thank God I’ve still got my parka on. The padding saves me from the worst of that pain, but the impact still draws a curse out of me.
