Quinn shrieked and cringed against her door as Arsen’s window shattered with the crack of a gunshot. Arsen jammed the brakes hard on, the truck flashing past them before its brake lights popped on, then realized if they stopped, they were going to be in gun fight he didn’t want. The passenger leaned out of the truck window and fired into the car as the truck swerved to block them in, bullets pinging and popping as the windshield crazed.
He floored the accelerator and the super-charged engine wailed as the car surged away. He whipped around the still slowing truck and passed it in a cloud of spray. The CTS V was fast, very fast, and there was no way the pickup could catch them, except the car was mortally wounded with warning lights beginning to illuminate on the dash as they raced through the rain.
“Get my phone! Call Phil! We’re going to need help!”
As Quinn worked the phone he struggled with the car, driving as fast as he dared, focusing on keeping it steady as it hydroplaned and watching the dash as more and more lights signaled failing systems.
He slowed, trying to nurse the car along, but the temperature gauge was already in the yellow and still climbing. As the engine began to knock he slowed even more, but the car wasn’t going to make it much farther.
“No answer!”
“Get ready to run!”
“What?” Quinn cried.
“The car is fucked! We’re going to have to run! Get ready!” He pulled the car to the side of the road and slammed to a stop. “Run!” he said, grabbing his phone and pistol before swinging his door open. They ran down the slight embankment and into the scrub just as the pickup passed, its brake lights flashing as the driver slammed on the brakes and hauled the truck to the side of the road.
“Keep running!” Arsen called, dragging her along as he tried to disappear into the rain. The truck roared, turning down the embankment, mud flying as the driver battered his way across the rain soaked desert floor.
Arsen hooked right, running at a right angle to the truck. “Keep going! I’m right behind you!” he yelled as he released her hand and pivoted to face the truck, firing nine shots into the truck. The truck slew around as it turned to follow them, then ground to a halt as the engine raced, mud flying from all four tires.
“They’re stuck! Back to the car!” Arsen screamed as he chased after Quinn, hoping she heard him over the pelting rain. If the car would run even five minutes more, that would allow them to put enough distance between themselves and the gunmen to get away.
Quinn began to loop back toward the interstate as a gun popped nine times in quick succession. His heart nearly stopped when Quinn went down, but she popped back up, muddy but apparently unhurt, and began to run again.
He could see the two people from the truck running toward them on an angle. They obviously realized where Quinn and Arsen were heading and were trying to cut them off. He debated swerving and trying to run around them, but he knew it was a useless tactic. He was out of ammunition, and if the gunmen had reloaded, they were dead anyway.
“Quinn! Wait!” he called, slowing to a walk as he tried to catch his breath. She stopped and he trotted to her.
“What are we going to do?” she asked, her voice quivering as she panted.
“I’m out of ammo. Stay behind me and we’ll see how this plays.” He knew how it was going to play. They were going to die. He couldn’t take two men, and once he was down, Quinn didn’t stand a chance. He reached to his hip and pulled his blade. He may go down, but he was taking at least one of those assholes with him.
Quinn cowered behind Arsen as he marched toward the two figure, his knife gripped firmly in his hand. He was obviously prepared to fight, but with two of them…She squinted as the figures approached.
“It’s them,” she gasped, grabbing his jacket.
“Who?”
“The woman, Stacy, and the man she was fucking, the man that enjoyed hurting us.”
He could now make out it was a woman and a man in their path. He knew Robert, and the man standing before him wasn’t Robert. “You Todd?” Arsen asked as the four of them stopped ten feet apart.
“Yeah.”
“How’s this going down?” Arsen growled.
Todd smiled, a nasty smile that didn’t touch his eyes. “I’m get to kill you and take back that bitch. I knew she was with the Blades, but I didn’t know she was with you. I’m going to hurt her. I’m going to hurt her bad for what she did to Pick.” His eyes shifted to Quinn. “How about it, bitch? You ready for round two?”
Arsen nodded, refusing to be baited. “So you were fucking the President’s old lady even before I killed him?”
“Roger was weak. Stacy knows a real man when she sees one. I’m going to rebuild the Horsemen and we’re going to fuck the Blades like I fucked that bitch, long, hard, and without mercy.”
“That’s going to be hard to do when you’re dead,” Arsen growled as he crouched and began to crab away from Quinn, his knife held in front of him. He wasn’t an experienced knife fighter, but he would live long enough to gut this motherfucker.
Todd smiled and pulled his own knife from his belt. “Come on, you fucker,” Todd snarled. “Let’s see what you got.”
***
Quinn was petrified with fear, her hands at her mouth as the two men circled each other, crouched low with their blades pointed in front of them. She was so transfixed she didn’t notice Stacy take the three steps forward, crying out as the bigger woman grabbed her by the hair and jerked her head hard back.
“I can’t wait to get you back to Phoenix,” Stacy snarled into her face. “Just you, me, and Todd. We’re going to have so much fun.”
Quinn couldn’t move, her face twisting with pain and fear. “Let us go, please! I won’t talk!” she cried, gripping the hand in her hair with her own to try to relieve the pain.
The older woman’s face twisted into an evil smile as she jerked her head again. “Oh, I know that, bitch. First, you’re going to watch as Todd guts him like a fish, then we’re taking you back to Phoenix where we’re going to finish what we started.”
Quinn twisted, trying to free her hair. She would rather die here in the desert than go back to Phoenix, and a white hot rage came over her. This evil bitch was going to hurt her? She may be twice her size, but she wasn’t going to Phoenix, not while she drew a breath. With a scream more animal than human, Quinn twisted and raked Stacy’s face with her nails.
***
Arsen wiped the water from his face as he continued to circle Todd, trying to take a measure of his opponent. He heard Quinn scream in pain but didn’t dare look away. Quinn was going to have to fend for herself because if Todd killed him, she was dead anyway. They continued to move in a slow circle, Todd making feints and taunting him, but Arsen wasn’t biting. He wanted Todd to come to him. As they continued to circle, Quinn and Stacy came into view. He couldn’t stop his eyes from flicking to the women as they fell in the mud, and that was the opening Todd was waiting for.
Todd lunged in, knife low, and tried to drive the blade into Arsen’s gut. Arsen backpedaled and twisted, grabbing the hand as it passed and twisted it away, then force his hand up and locked the arm over his own so he couldn’t turn the knife back on him. He swept his own knife back along Todd’s arm, but it was pointed the wrong way, the butt of the knife hitting Todd in the face.
Todd’s head snapped back as blood flowed from his broken nose. Arsen turned to bring his blade around, but Todd grabbed his knife hand to prevent him from burying the blade. Arsen grunted, trying to force the blade down, but their arms were tangled.
“Now I’ve got you, you fucker,” Todd grunted as he fell backwards, dragging Arsen down with him.
***
Stacy reared back with a cry of pain as Quinn opened three bloody gouges on her face. Free of Stacy’s grip on her hair, she pivoted and charged the woman, no longer thinking as her fight or flight response became fully engaged and her body dumped adrenaline into her system. Quinn hit her, driving her from her feet and to the ground. She rode her down, the impact barely registering, before she grabbed Stacy by the hair and began to pound her head against the ground.
Stacy was a big, tough, woman, used to brawling, and she clawed at the smaller woman, but Quinn was a hellcat, ignoring Stacy’s grasping hands. With a cry of pain and effort, Stacy managed to dislodge Quinn from her chest, tumbling over her as she tried to escape the punishment Quinn was raining down on her.
No longer able to hammer Stacy’s head against the ground, Quinn grabbed Stacy by the throat with both hands. Stacy’s eyes bulged as she gripped Quinn’s hands and tried to pull them from her throat.
With another snarl, Quinn twisted Stacy off of her, her hands still locked on her throat as they lay side by side in the mud. “Die, you bitch,” she snarled, spittle flying from her lips.
***
Arsen landed on Todd with a grunt. He and Todd were locked in a test of strength, each trying to bury their blade in their opponent while preventing the same. He strained to drive his knife into Todd, but couldn’t get the leverage, not while worrying about keeping Todd’s blade out of his own side. He changed his tactics and reared back and scrambled away on hands and knees, kicking out with a booted foot as Todd scrambled to follow.
His foot connected solidly with Todd’s face, his face exploding with blood. Arsen changed his grip on his knife and lunged back at Todd, wanting to take advantage of Todd’s slowed reactions. He tried to drive his knife into Todd, but his opponent blocked the thrust. Arsen continued to move, sliding past to get behind him.
Todd, realizing he was at a severe disadvantage, dropped his knife as he used two hands to try to hold off Arsen’s blade. With Arsen’s arm around his neck, his knife only inches from plunging into his stomach, Todd used both hands to try to stop Arsen’s knife from plunging into him.
“Who’s fucked now?” Arsen grunted.
Their muscles bulging, their faces twisted into feral masks of pain and effort, the two men strained, kicking and squirming in the mud as the rain poured. With a scream of pain, Todd’s strength failed and Arsen’s blade plunged into his stomach. Arsen quickly pulled the knife and plunged it in again, and then again, then again, three more hard fast plunges as Todd shrieked in agony.
***
Quinn kept her hands around Stacy’s throat as they rolled over again, Quinn coming to rest on top. Stacy had her hands under her chin, forcing her head back. She had a longer reach and she was winning the test of strength. Realizing she could no longer hold her, Quinn released Stacy and threw herself away and scrambled to her feet, turning to face the woman as she struggled, holding her throat and coughing as she gasped for breath.
Quinn charged again, again driving them to the ground before grabbing Stacy’s hair and bashing her head against the ground. Quinn could sense the fight going out of Stacy but she kept hammering her head, then switched back to her throat, leaning in with all her weight.
Kicking and clawing, Stacy tried to throw her off, but Quinn clung to her like a burr. “You fucking bitch…you fucking bitch…you fucking bitch,” Quinn chanted as she leaned in, trying to crush the woman’s throat.
With a final convulsive thrust, Stacy threw her off, and began to scramble back on her hands and knees, racked with coughs. Quinn began to charge her, intent on finishing what she’d started, but before she could attack, Arsen stepped up and grabbed Stacy by the arm. He was covered in blood from the waist down, but didn’t appear to be injured. He hauled Stacy to her feet and drove his knife into her side without pause.
She screamed in pain, hunching over to the side as her blood flowed. He drove the blade in again, then jacked her head back and slit her throat with a single vicious slice. He held her a moment then let her fall. She wasn’t dead yet, but she would be within moments.
He stared at Stacy as her blood stained the desert floor, the rain washing the blood from her body until her heart beat its last, then looked at Quinn. “You okay?” he panted.
Quinn stared at the dead woman as she began to shake. Her eyes flicked to him, watching him, knife still in his hand as his chest heaved, the rain washing the blood from him. He dropped the knife as she ran to him, throwing herself into his arm as she began to weep.
He held her tight, one arm around her waist, the other on her head. “I thought I was going to lose you,” he murmured. They stood in their embrace for many long moments. “We have to go before someone sees us,” he whispered.
She nodded and struggled to stop her tears. “I was so afraid,” she whispered, her face still buried in his chest.
“I know. So was I.”
She sniffed and stepped back. “Is it over?”
“I don’t know. I hope so.” He bent and picked up his knife and checked to make sure he still had his weapon, wanting to leave no evidence behind. “Come on,” he said softly, taking her arm and steering her back toward the interstate and his car. “Let’s get the fuck out of here.”