Paradise Club by Tim Meyer

Author:Tim Meyer [Meyer, Tim]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Grindhouse Press
Published: 2021-02-04T22:00:00+00:00

ELLIOT

THEY GOT TO THE END of the hall and turned the corner. Elliot still had Fernando hooked around his throat and still tasted the man’s blood on his lips. He couldn’t wait to wash out his mouth, rid himself of that awful metallic flavor.

“Keep going,” Anne urged him. “Move faster, they’re coming.”

“We’re a little exposed here.” He was right. The hallway had given way to another lobby, out in the open, with even fewer fake trees to hide behind. There weren’t any cleanup crew members stalking about, but the floor was littered with bodies. Stagnant rivers of blood flooded the place. Elliot didn’t see any movement, but he was hardly worried about someone seeing them down here. He was more concerned with the eyes in the sky, thinking back to when Feely had broken into his suite, how they knew who he was and where he’d been.

We’re being watched, all the time. This idea of abducting one of their head officers wasn’t as good as he previously thought. It might have worked in the restroom, especially if Fernando had coughed up the details, but he hadn’t. The man wasn’t going to break. He wasn’t going to give them shit. And furthermore, they—the orchestrators of this madness—would be looking for him. Especially if Anne was to be believed, and that Fernando was high-ranking.

“We should drop him and go,” he told her.

“You’ll never find your wife if you let him go,” Anne said coldly. She meant every word.

“Damn it.” Elliot threw Fernando up against the wall. “Last chance, fucker. Where is she? Tell me, or I’ll kill you right now!”

Fernando didn’t speak a word. He only smiled.

“I’m gonna count to three,” he said.

“You’ll die here,” he said, laughing. “You’re all gonna die here. None of it matters anyway.”

“Okay,” Elliot said. “Three!”

He began squeezing the man’s throat, ferociously, until his eyes began to bug.

“Tell me!”

Fernando snorted as he tried to take in air, but all pathways were cut off. He kicked his feet, aiming for the sweet spot between Elliot’s legs. Elliot brought his knees together, tucking his two best friends behind his upper thighs. He squeezed the man’s throat even harder. Fernando’s face purpled, the veins on his forehead popping, becoming clearly visible.

“You!” a man shouted from the mouth of the hallway. He and three others were running toward them.

“Fuck!” Anne shouted. She grabbed Elliot’s shoulder, tugging at his shirt. “Let’s go! Now!”

The men, part of the cleanup crew, weren’t armed. But there were three (four, if you counted Fernando, who had not lost consciousness despite Elliot’s best effort) of them and only one of Elliot. He figured Anne could hold her own, judging from what she did to that guy’s face back at the restroom, but she didn’t seem like she wanted to stick around, that running was her preferred method of survival. And after all, she’d been through one of these Skirmishes before.

Maybe he should follow her lead.

But he wanted to kill Fernando, choke every drop of life out of him.

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