Chapter 13 #2
Fear punched Coulter in the gut, but he pushed it down. “Where is she?”
Fraser gestured toward a darkened alcove.
“Resting. I’ll admit, the girl hits hard.
Even landed a strike with her knife, but…
” He flipped the blade in his hand. “I thought for sure she’d risk blowing us all up and take a shot, but…
Don’t worry. I didn’t kill her, yet.” He took a step closer.
“I want to show her your lifeless eyes, first. Prove I’ve always been the better warrior. ”
“Then, I hope you’ve got more men, or have I killed all of them?”
Fraser shrugged. “The rest weren’t worth saving.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because they were like you, not me.”
Coulter inched around a generator, a couple fuel drums making him acutely aware of how much the temperature was rising.
How it wouldn’t be long before the liquid ignited, took the rest of the building with it.
“Guess they were smarter. You do know that drug’s a death sentence, right? That you’re a ticking time bomb?”
“We’re all going to die. It’s what you do before that matters. And right now…” His voice trailed off before he appeared insanely close. “I’m a god.”
He struck, tossing Coulter across the room as if he weighed nothing, the impact knocking the air from his lungs. He rolled, gained his feet in time to block Fraser’s next strike in the cross of his arms, that knife only inches from Coulter’s chest.
Fraser leaned in, mouth curved into a smirk. “What’s wrong, Barrett? I thought you Tier One guys were hardcore. Built like tanks.”
Coulter gritted through the pain in his ribs as he twisted, directed the knife over his shoulder before using Fraser’s momentum to spin him onto his ass.
The guy recovered quicker than he should’ve, lunging at Coulter with long clean arcs.
He jumped back, blocking more strikes with his forearms, getting in a series of hard hits that seemed to bounce off Fraser without leaving a mark.
They came together, grappling for control, when another tank blew upstairs, the resulting concussive wave knocking Coulter into an HVAC stack. Fraser recovered first, tackling Coulter to the ground, straddling him, all his weight behind the knife aimed at Coulter’s throat.
Arms shaking, he held off the blade, but it steadily inched closer.
From the corner of his eye, he clocked the flames beginning to flicker out the bottom of the chute — the entire basement minutes away from igniting into a blazing inferno.
He gritted his teeth, prepared to deflect the knife into his shoulder, when something scuffed the floor behind them.
Fraser turned, eyes wide, some of his force easing before a loud crack split the air, snapping Fraser’s head back. A red mist sprayed across the wall next to Coulter’s head as Fraser crumpled into a heap across his chest.
Neve limped into view, Beretta clasped in her hand, one eye slightly puffy. She hobbled over, chest heaving, eyes a bit wild. “Fucker never checked my ankle holster.”
She helped Coulter push Fraser onto the floor, his brown eyes, dull, unseeing. She stared down at him, hands shaking slightly, chin quivering before she drew herself up, offered Coulter a hand.
He stood, jumping when another explosion rocked the building, large flames shooting out the bottom of the chute, igniting a patch of oil on the floor.
Coulter shielded her as they moved to the only door in the room, shouldering his weight against the metal. “We should try one of the windows. You should fit.”
Neve shook her head. “Not leaving here without you.”
“If you can get out, maybe you can open the door from the outside.”
“It’s a mag seal. I’ll need Zadie…”
Tires squealed beyond the door, boots hitting pavement a second later.
The handle rattled, metal clanging against metal sounding from the other side before the footsteps retreated.
An engine growled, revving up high as the door groaned, the entire frame slowly crumpling until the hinges gave way, and the entire structure shot outward, swirling smoke out the opening.
Coulter helped Neve step through, staring at Shepherd as he removed the chain from around the handle, tossed it into the flatbed, then returned to the driver’s side, motioning for them to jump in.
They stumbled over, coughing from the smoke, a few flames chasing them into the cab.
They slid into the back, the others already inside, the door shutting out the roar of the fire as Shepherd hit the gas, peeling out of the rear parking lot in a billow of smoke and burnt rubber.
Sirens blared in the distance, more emergency lighting brightening the graying dawn as they raced to the next cross street, turned right, then drove along a parallel route.
Neve looked out the back window, lips pursed tight, eyes wary.
She didn’t talk, just stared at the building enveloped in flames.
Coulter squeezed her shoulder, brushing back some hair when she gazed up at him. “You okay?”
She looked back again, light dimming from her eyes. “I’ll live.”
“That’s not what I asked. What you did…” He leaned closer. “Thank you.”
“Like there was any doubt, I just…”
She didn’t finish, electing to relax against him instead, her head rested in the crook of his shoulder, her heavy breathing cutting deep.
While he knew he’d likely be dead if she hadn’t taken the shot, watching her try to make peace with killing someone she knew gutted him.
It was the one thing he’d hoped she could avoid.
He’d been wrong, and his miscalculation had cost her some measure of sanity. He only prayed he could help her reclaim it. Whatever the cost, he vowed he’d find a way to make it right.