Page 28 of Hans

I spin the final knife that’s still in my hand so I’m gripping the handle instead of the tip of the blade, then swing my arm down and back, slicing through the man’s upper thigh and his femoral artery.

I withdraw the blade immediately, giving the vital blood coursing through the artery a path of escape.

The man’s arms fall away from my neck.

One dead.

One seconds from death.

One with a knife between the ribs.

One finally pulling the knife free from his arm.

Him first.

He tries to throw the blade at me, like I did to him. But he’s not me, so the flat edge of the knife thuds against my chest and falls to the floor.

If it wasn’t so fucking pathetic, I’d laugh.

“Really?” I ask, wanting more of a fight from these men. Needing it.

Without looking, I fling my final throwing knife down and back, hearing the meaty thud of it entering the body of the man who’s bleeding out on the floor.

The man before me pales, like the idea of me being weaponless is somehow more intimidating.

I hear a creak from the cot behind me, and I know Rib Guy is trying to get up. Probably hoping to use his last breath to kill me.

He can try.

I’d love to make this an actual fight.

I lunge forward and capture Arm Guy in a bear hug, barreling us both to the floor.

He’s big. As big as me. Maybe heavier.

My shoulder catches the corner of one of the cots, so I’m slightly off-balance when he swings a haymaker at my face.

I lean back, moving with it, but that off-balance bit has me leaning too far, and his fist slides across my throat.

The hit isn’t hard enough to kill me, but it’s enough to fucking hurt. And enough to seize up my throat muscles.

I punch the man once in the face, hard enough to stun him, then straddle his sprawled form.

My breath is still stuck in my lungs, but I know the air will come, so I don’t panic.

Instead, I grab the front of his shirt to lift him, then smash his head back against the concrete floor.

I can hear movement behind me. Can hear Rib Guy picking up his gun from the floor. Can hear his ragged breathing, his left lung probably fully collapsed now.

I slam Arm Guy’s head against the concrete again, and his eyes roll back.

Rib Guy is moving forward now. I can hear him getting closer.

He’s afraid to shoot from too far away.

Afraid to hit his friend again, like he did last time.

Pussy.

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