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If I didn’t know better, I would have thought he allowed this to happen so he could stop me without actually stopping me. Hearing the bullets had stopped I crawled out from the machine and came up just a little, looking at the steel shutters and the now shattered glass doors. Pointing my gun in that direction, I heard them as they stepped over the glass towards the door and opened it slowly.
“What fuck are you doing?” Ethan’s tall ass stood up like a damn tree, firing directly at the door. But he wasn’t looking at the door, instead he was focused on me, his eyes narrowed and jaw set.
“A date with who?”
“Are you serious right now?”
“Do I not look serious?”
I couldn’t answer because they threw a smoke bomb inside. I pulled open the bag, tossing him a mask before putting mine on.
“We’ll talk about this later,” he said to me and I rolled my eyes, standing up and leaning on the other side of the ice cutter.
We stood quietly, listening as they came in. I closed my eyes, counting the footsteps. Two, four, six…eight…nine, ten, eleven. There were eleven. Opening my eyes, I looked over to Ethan who held up his hands he flashed five twice and then one. He counted eleven also. I nodded. He pointed to his knees and then his head.
We needed a distraction and light. Reaching in my back pocket, I pulled out a flashbang. He nodded and counted me down.
Three.
Two.
One.
&n
bsp; I threw it towards the door and the moment it went off we both came out and began firing. I shot out their knees, and he shot into their skulls. We spun around each other, shooting them down. They went down quickly, but it wasn’t just the eleven; another two came rushing in with a sound bomb of their own.
Ah! Fuck. I sneered in my mask, feeling the bullet as it went into my shoulder.
Ethan shot them both and looked over to me. I shook my head, tossing him my gun and pulling out the machete from behind me along with a handheld knife. Ethan shook his head, but I moved to the gap between the shutters and the glass door. He fell back to stand beside the ice-bagging machine.
It was quiet, very quiet. I looked out of one of the bullet holes and saw two sets of headlights were shining on the doors, but I focused on the shadows.
Five. I held my hand out to him.
He held his gun out and the metal doors began to lift. Just as I suspected, they were all coming to see what was going on. I couldn’t see anything so I just watched Ethan and trusted my ears. He nodded slowly, very slowly, signaling their footsteps. I heard the broken glass crunching beneath their boots. He stopped nodding.
I looked over to my right just as the man looked at me. He lifted his gun to me, and I cut off his hand and sliced across his face. I heard Ethan fire again, and I dropped down, cutting into the next man, and when I fell to the ground, I stabbed my blade through his nose. When I stood back up, ready for the next one, Ethan already had them down, blood pouring out of them. I looked back to see him walking my way. He took off the mask and looked me up and down.
“The gun would have worked just fine without you going primal.”
“I was working off pent-up frustration—” I stopped when I heard the engine to the car try to start, but fail.
I looked over and Ethan lifted his gun. The man behind the wheel tried over and over again.
“It is not your lucky day, mate,” I said to him.
“Mate?” Ethan seemed amused, but I ignored him.
“You’re outnumbered. Even if you have a weapon you are going to have to take us both out and that is not likely. Why don’t we call a truce?” I put my weapon down. “You tell us who sent you, we let you go.”
Silence. Nothing.
“Or he could fire into the windshield,” I reminded him, walking closer to the door. “The boss is pissed, but you can get back in his good graces…come on. I’m removing my weapons.”
I took off my vest and dropped it, along with my belt.
When I escaped the glare of the headlights and got closer to the car, I saw it was Grams’ grandson. He was teenager with black hair; he couldn’t be more than fifteen. He stepped out the car with a handgun pointed at me.
