Children of Chaos by Gifune Greg F

Author:Gifune, Greg F. [Gifune, Greg F.]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: DarkFuse
Published: 2009-02-16T16:00:00+00:00

ELEVEN

With Jamie’s tormented face still carved into my brain, I hurried back through the streets of Tijuana toward my hotel. I stopped off along the way and bought a bottle of whiskey, and then key in hand, tramped up the staircase to my room. As I unlocked the door I glanced up and saw that the lone light fixture in the hallway had apparently burnt out, leaving much of the landing covered in darkness. It had just occurred to me as suspicious when something darted out of the shadows and a silver blur flashed before my eyes.

I fell back, more confused than stunned, but it felt like something had hit my ear. Not a punch, more like a finger-jab. Raising my arms defensively, I stumbled away from the door, dropping the bag with the whiskey in it as my head spun and a sticky wetness trickled along the side of my neck.

I regained my balance in time to see a swarthy man charging toward me with what looked like a small tool of some kind in his hand. Had that been what I’d seen flash before me? He swung at me again and I leaned out of the way as his arm swept past, revealing his weapon to be some sort of knife with a short curved blade that forked at the tip.

You’ve got to be kidding me, I thought, this guy’s attacking me with a fucking cheese knife.

There was an odd silence in the hallway as he came at me again. It struck me as almost comical until I realized I was bleeding. My instincts took over, and I threw a combination that caught the man off-guard due to my southpaw stance. The right hook was an awkward and glancing blow that landed high on his head, but he walked right into the straight left I followed it with. My fist smashed dead into the center of his nose. His head snapped back and he let out a muffled grunt. As I moved closer to kick out the side of his knee, another man suddenly appeared at the top of the stairs. At first I thought he was coming for me, but he quickly closed on my attacker instead, launched a savage, lightning-fast punch to the base of the man’s throat, and then darted into the shadows in the corner of the hallway. Gasping for breath, the swarthy man sunk to his knees, gagging and jerking about with spasm-like seizures.

As I spun away from him I realized the man who had helped me was Party Boy. He had emerged again from the shadows, this time dragging someone else into the light along with him.

Hardy Brunner.

“Of course this is—this is all a terrible misunderstanding, sir!” he blathered hysterically. “Allow me to explain, I—I saw this suspicious individual following you and assumed he planned to rob you. I only came to warn you of his plans, sir, I—”

Party Boy gave a look that silenced the old man in mid-sentence.

“You sonofabitch,” I said, trying to catch my breath while assessing the damage.

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