Page 20 of Harmless
Me, on the other hand? I didn’t know if I could turn off the human part of myself and become a killing machine.
No pressure or anything.
There was a metallic clanking sound behind us and I whipped around. Santos, smartly, didn’t turn his back to the fighter on the sands but cocked his head in the direction of the new noise.
Another wall panel of our cell slid away, revealing a room on the other side. Or, rather, it was more of a corridor, because the space was packed with armed guards as far back as I could see. There had to be at least a dozen of them coming through the new opening, filing in and crowding our once-dark and closed off cell.
“Into the pit, prisoners,” ordered the leader, a sadistic smile pulling at his face as he slapped a baton into his opposite palm. “Your sentence is death.”
Santos and I moved to the far edge of the cell, where the first wall had opened up. His toes hovered over the shadow casting a line in the sand, darkness on our side, light on the other.
“Count of three, we run for weapons,” he muttered. “One, two—”
“Get moving!” Something flashed in the corner of my vision—an arm swinging back, ready to bring a baton down on my head.
“Three!”
We took off, bursting into painful sunlight and burning sand. I didn’t expect the ground to be hot, while also soft and shifting beneath my feet. Santos’ blurry form was several paces ahead of me as I struggled to find my footing.
You better fucking get here, Rori,was my last thought before falling flat on my face and looking up to see a dark shadow looming over me.
8
SANTOS
Torrance was no longer at my side when I made it to the weapons rack. When I looked back to find him? “Aw, fuck.”
I’d forgotten that he wasn’t used to the sandy ground because this surface was like second nature to me. He’d fallen, and the Bulldozer was right on his ass. I grabbed the first weapon within reach, not even taking note of what it was, and hurried back. A sinking feeling in my stomach told me he was already a goner though. The bastard couldn’t even see yet.
The Bulldozer swung his—my—machete down, catching only a bit of Torr’s shirt as he rolled out of the way. Torr then kicked the inside of the fighter’s knee, making him scream and stumble, but the Bulldozer did not go down.
And I knew the big bastard wouldn’t go down easily. He’d been here as long as me and Devin.
Torr went for an easy kick next—the gladiator’s nads, but the Bulldozer was ready. He grabbed Torr’s foot just as I sprang into action again. He started to twist just as I took a running jump and broke my weapon against his face.
What I’d ended up grabbing was a wooden stick, little more than a broom handle. I cracked my weapon so hard against the Bulldozer’s nose bridge that it splintered apart. His nose erupted in a fountain of blood, and he released Torr’s leg to grab at his face.
“Get a weapon!” I yelled at him, facing off at the Bulldozer with my now-splintered and broken stick. The bleeding gladiator had also dropped my machete, and I eyed the curving blade on the sand near his feet.
I couldn’t grab it yet though. The enraged gladiator seemed to forget about the blood pouring from his face as he stared me down. “Butcher.” He smiled cruelly, revealing jagged, blood-stained teeth. “You’re alive after all.” Without breaking eye contact, he lowered to pick up the machete. “Killing you myself will be so much sweeter now that I can do it with your own weapons.”
“How’d you even find those?” I didn’t really care to know. I was just stalling for time, backing away slowly, the splintered end of my stick pointing at the Bulldozer as he advanced on me.
“Went in your room when Nella had some fun with your roomie in her office. That big cat of yours didn’t stand a chance.”
He said both of those sentences to throw me off my game and get under my skin. And goddamn him, it worked. While I was trying to process Nella taking Devin again, and this big oaf actually laying a hand on Tezca, he moved in for a strike.
On instinct, I brought up my weapon to block, forgetting that it was made of wood. My mistake became clear when my own machete sliced through it cleanly, nicking me in the shoulder before I dodged the rest of it with a hiss of pain.
I went behind the Bulldozer and he spun, coming for me again, forgetting all about Torr who ran up behind him with a mace of some kind. Rori’s man swung the weapon like a baseball bat, landing a hard blow on the Bulldozer’s kidney.
“Took you long enough to find something,” I muttered, holding my bleeding shoulder while the Bulldozer swayed unsteadily.
He swung at Torr, who successfully blocked the machete blow and kicked the gladiator in the stomach. Unfortunately for him, the Bulldozer barely budged.
While those two danced, the Bulldozer swinging my blade as Torr dodged and whacked him where he could, I went to look for another weapon. There was a short sword on the rack, not quite what I was used to, but it would work well enough. I grabbed it and grimaced at the weight. There was no way I could hold this thing with my bum shoulder. It felt like the muscles had torn, so I was already down to using one arm.
Not that I don’t have faith in you, but any minute now would be great, Rori.
