Possession by T. M. Frazier

Author:T. M. Frazier [Frazier, T. M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Frazier Publishing
Published: 2018-11-13T05:00:00+00:00

Fourteen

Grim

We sneak up on the Los Muertos compound. King rounds the back with several of the men, and I lead Sandy and Haze around to the other side. Haze stays at our rear while we creep around in the darkness. The sounds of the first bullets pierce the air, and it’s just the distraction we need to make progress. We crouch as low to the ground as we can through a hole we cut into the fence.

A soldier appears from the back of a building, running toward the gunfire. He spots us and stops, but before he can open his mouth to call to the other men or raise his gun, I fire two rounds into his head.

The three of us continue on, stepping over the corpse and making our way between two buildings.

When we hear movement, we press our backs to the wall.

Then we wait.

A single pair of footsteps pass us by in the dark. Sandy looks around and gives me a thumbs up. Haze tips his chin. They’ll cover me.

Just like they always have.

I rise from the shadows and surprise the soldier from behind. I wrap my gun around his neck, pulling it tight so the fucker knows how this will end for him. Haze retrieves the soldier’s fallen gun.

“Where the fuck is she?” I growl, giving him just enough room between the gun and his throat to draw the breath it takes to answer.

“Where is who?” he rasps, struggling in my grip.

“The Mona fucking Lisa,” Sandy quips. “Who the fuck do you think?”

“I’ll never fucking tell you,” he replies, eyes bulging from his head. “You Bedlam bastards can burn in hell.”

I kick the man to his knees and draw my pistol, pressing my gun against his temple. “Where is she, motherfucker?”

He bares his teeth. “Never.”

There’s an unwavering determination in his words along with something else. Something stronger. Something I can work with. Fear. “There’s nothing you can do to me that Marco won’t do worse.”

I chuckle. “Wanna bet?”

Sandy keeps his gun trained on the soldier while I pull my blade and slice off his ear. I hold up his former body part for him to see then toss it into his lap.

He’s screaming, pressing his hand to the gushing wound where his ear used to be. His blood is black under the moonlight, spilling between his fingers and down his forearm.

“Is that worse than what Marco will do to you?” I ask.

“Please, don’t. No more,” he cries. I’m disappointed he’s crumbling so quickly. There are so many more of his body parts I’d like to cut off and show him.

“Where is she?”

He raises a shaky, bloodied finger and points toward the back of the compound. “Center building in the back. The one with the upside-down truck out front. Second floor.”

“See, now was that so hard?” Sandy asks, patting his head like a dog who’d finally learned to sit on command. He takes a step back and tosses me my gun.

I pull the trigger without hesitation. The man falls lifelessly to the ground.

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