Michael is alive!

The joy that runs through me at that thought is something I can’t describe. I knew he was still alive, sure. But, this shows he’s more alert than I thought. He’s fighting to survive. Drummer yells, doing his best to break free. I know he’s going to soon. I can tell by the way that Michael is shaking. I don’t have much time. I reach down and grab the letter opener that’s wedged against my belt and pull it out. I’m so nervous the slick, silver handle nearly slides out of my hand. I tighten my hold, screaming. I only have his lower body because Michael’s legs cover most of Drummer’s head, neck and upper chest. I duck down quickly and I stab him once in the stomach, then twice, then three times. Drummer is screaming at me, and I feel his hands in my hair, ripping at it to get away from him. My shot at saving Michael is gone.

I can’t accept defeat that easily. Michael wouldn’t. Look at him now, still trying to help—even in the shape he’s in. I can’t give up.

Drummer slings me away, luckily I take the opener with me. I fall hard against the concrete, but my hand hits the forgotten keychain and Taser. I don’t know how to reuse it. I’m not sure it’s possible because wires are hanging from it now. I still have the mace, though, and at least it’s military grade. I quickly hold it up and as Drummer advances toward me I spray it into his eyes.

“You fucking cunt!” he screams, bringing his arms up to guard his eyes. He takes several steps backwards. I’m trying to figure out what to do when Michael surprises me again. He takes one more swing and uses both legs to kick Drummer, propelling him backwards. He lands four or five feet away with a thud. “I’m going to fucking gut both of you!” he growls. For a minute I just stand there, amazed that Michael managed to help that much. My man is amazing. I look around and see an old crate. I drag it over and push it under Michael. His legs don’t really stand firm under him, but I hope it takes a little of his weight away from his wrists.

I hear Drummer screaming. I look to see him standing up, breathing heavily, and stalking his way toward us. I frantically search around, trying to find anything to protect us with—besides this damn letter opener. Why couldn’t I have brought a pistol or something? It’s not like Drummer even checked me for weapons! They hide those things in their shoes in the movies! I could have done that! All thought stops when I see a body…a bloated body in the corner. I can’t see much, but you can tell it’s been here for a little while. How is it not stinking? I guess I can smell a little, but not like I should. Just strawberries.

I shake it off.

“You better run, while you still can. Michael’s friends will be here any minute and when they find you—”

“You two will already be dead,” he says, his eyes red and crying from the mace. The light casts an eerie glow on him and he looks even more menacing. I clench the letter opener tighter, trying to figure out exactly what to do.

“Why! Why would you do this? You don’t even like Blade. What can he give you that would make you do this?”

“He can’t give me nothing anymore,” Drummer sneers. “He’s rotting.”

I guess that answers the question of who the body is. Couldn’t have happened to a nicer guy.

“Then what’s the point. Leave before the others get here. Leave Michael and me alone,” I plead with him, but I know it’s useless. He’s deranged and completely unstable. Where the hell are Devil and Skull?

“Your Michael is the reason I didn’t get to know my daughter. He’s the reason she’s dead. I’m going to take everything he cares about away from him and then kill him. It’s my right!” He screams, the last sentence, lunging at me. Michael moves his body so it shoves me away, I stumble and fall to the ground, just in time to see Drummer collide with him. Before I can think about it I push my body up from the floor and I attack the back of Drummer—thrusting my homemade weapon into the back of his neck. I bury it as far as I can get it to go. It sinks remarkably easy and I hope that doesn’t mean I’ve missed anything vital. I need time to figure out another attack. I stumble back a few steps, almost falling. I jumped slightly to reach Drummer’s neck and I’m shaking so hard, it’s hard to stand. I leave my weapon buried in his neck and pray.

At first, I think it’s done nothing. Drummer brings his hands back to try and grab it. He doesn’t say anything though—which is strange. Then he staggers backwards. I jump to the side, expecting him to turn around and attack. He doesn’t. He keeps backing up and then all at once his body tips and he falls, crashing onto the concrete floor. When he lands, I take a cautious step towards him. I think I killed him!

“I think I killed him, Michael! I think he’s dead!” I yell, kind of proud of myself. Then I scream as Skull and Devil pick that moment to break through the front door. “Help me get Michael down!” I yell. They look around stunned but come running toward us.

Now I just have to pray Michael survives….