another man, nearly twice Gabriel’s size took Rhys’ place in the circle. He sported a crossbow in one hand and a rusty cutlass in the other. Raising the crossbow, he fired before Gabriel could protest.
Diving aside, Gabriel hit the ground hard as the crossbow bolt struck the man
behind him in the chest. Rolling to break the fall, Gabriel looked over to see the man staring at the bolt in his chest before falling over backward dead. As he started to push himself back up, Gabriel found himself lying against Rhys’ dead body, and more importantly against the two grenades still attached to his belt.
“I can’t be this lucky,” he muttered as he yanked the pins from the two grenades, and leapt to his feet, tossing them aside.
He dashed with all the speed his ailing body could muster toward the hole in the encircling men left by the one that had been shot. He angled toward where Sam stood to one side of the stairs leading up to the Chosen One’s dais.
“Get down,” he shouted at her, tackling her to the ground against the stairs,
hoping that they’d gave them enough cover from the explosion.
When the explosion came, the ground shook hard. The shockwave hit him hard,
feeling much like doing a belly flop onto a brick wall. Every muscle and bone in his body felt the jolt, and it knocked the wind out of him.
Wheezing for breath, Gabriel checked quickly to make sure that Sam was all
right. Coughing weakly, she looked up at him with wide eyes. Obviously, she had no idea what had just happened.
Pulling himself to his feet on watery legs, Gabriel surveyed the damage caused by the grenades. The metal flooring was dented and scorched black. Several of the men had been torn to pieces. Only one was left alive, pulling himself to his feet and looking at the carnage with disbelief.
Gabriel didn’t give him any time to recover. Ignoring his hurts he strode over to the man with knife in hand.
“Knife,” he said one of the keywords he’d programmed into the field log, and felt it take over. His body moved in the prerecorded fashion. Slashing at the lone survivor to disarm him, Gabriel spun around and planted his blade in the center of his chest before whipping it out again and bringing it back up to a ready stance.
Seconds later the Sa’Dhi reached its time limit and Gabriel felt most of his
strength flood out of him. His legs folded under him, dropping him to the floor hard. He felt as though he’d just run seven marathons back to back. His broken rib stabbed sharply, his sprained ankle sent jolts of pain up his leg with every beat of his heart, and his head felt as through a small animal was trying desperately to burrow its way out of it, but he was alive, and so was Sam.
“What in the hell was that,” Sam cried, getting to her feet and checking Mister Mittens over before letting him climb onto her shoulders.
“Grenades,” Gabriel wheezed.
“If you had grenades all this time why didn’t you use them sooner,” Sam yelled angrily, planting fists on hips.
“They weren’t mine,” Gabriel pointed to the dent in the floor. “They were on his belt.”
“Guards,” the Chosen One screamed. He was peeking out from behind his throne
and jabbing his finger down at a blue button on the arm for all he was worth.
Forcing himself back to his feet, Gabriel staggered almost drunkenly toward Sam.
Rather than throwing her arms around him as he expected, she pulled back a fist and punched in square in the jaw so hard he saw stars again. Unfortunately, Sam did not hit like a girl.
When he was able to pull himself back to his senses he glared at her, massaging his jaw. “What in the hell was that for!”
“Didn’t I tell you never to call me Samantha,” she glared at him. “And if you were going to use that guy’s grenades couldn’t you have let me know beforehand, or done it sooner or something!”
“Oh shut up,” Gabriel grabbed her upper arm with one hand and pulled her close.
They looked into each other’s eyes for a long moment, strange emotions running through each of them. Neither of them seemed to know what to do next.
“Guards,” the Chosen One screamed again, more frantically this time, breaking
the magic of the moment. “Guards!”
He was still jabbing down at the blue button, probably a communicator of some
sort, but nothing was happening.
“And you,” Sam snarled, limping toward the Chosen One with her bushy tail bristling and lashing in anger. Her growl was so animal, Gabriel wouldn’t have believed it came from a human throat if he hadn’t seen for himself.
The boy froze, staring at her with glassy eyed fear.
“Y-you aren’t s-supposed to come u-up here,” he stuttered.
Raising her hand high above her head, Sam let it hang there for a few seconds to build expectation before she let it fall. The slap resounded through the otherwise silent room.
“You do not treat women like that,” she screamed at the boy, who fingered at a reddening patch on his cheek.
Sam slapped the Chosen One again. If anything it sounded like she hit him harder this time. “You do not treat women like that!”
This slap knocked the kid to the floor where he began bawling like a baby
between cries for help. Dropping onto the throne, Sam jerked the boy over her knees, forcing him still with a handful of his greasy hair. Then she started to spank him with her good hand. Howling with indignity, he struggled to free himself, but it was futile. As she continued, his cries changed more from anger to pain.
Screaming unintelligibly, Sam spanked her probably half brother for a very long time. Gabriel left her to it, as it was far less than the kid deserved, and Sam needed to work off the anger and fear from her captivity. Retrieving his guns, he buckled them on.
His clothes were a gory mess, and soaked through with sweat. If only he had his saddlebags so he could change into his spares. There was also a first aid kit that both of them needed desperately.
Stepping onto the stage, Gabriel plopped down to try and recover some of his
strength. Looking over the edge of the dais, he considered whether or not he wanted to vomit. His stomach was churning, but heaving would set his broken rib aflame. Which would be more objectionable: the pain or the queasy feeling? He couldn’t decide. He was completely beat, and they still had to find a way back out. At least they had a very important hostage.
Sam finally finished and rolled the Chosen One off her thighs onto the ground
where he lay on his back crying uncontrollably. Panting, she looked like she wanted to start strangling the kid, but restrained herself.
“You want me to be your mother,” she growled. “That’s your first lesson. You do something bad and I wail on you. Now stop crying or I’ll really give you something to cry about!”
Chapter 23: Initiative Six Six Six
“What now,” Sam asked breathlessly.
“Well,” Gabriel replied. “He’s just a kid, we can’t kill him.”
“I know,” she sounded absolutely infuriated over the fact.
“You can’t kill me,” the boy began laughing maniacally, tapping the jagged
surgical scar on his chest. “I’m the Chosen One. No one can kill me!”
“I beg to differ,” Mister Mittens said. “Kill him, Gabriel. It’s better than he deserves. You’re afraid to kill a child? What are you, a pussy? Have you forgotten everything this brat is responsible for?”
“Being called a pussy by a cat,” Gabriel muttered. “That’s a new one. Shut up, cat! He’s just a kid. He doesn’t know any better.”