Page 284 of Ruins
Suddenly I see it.
A flicker of steel. His knife. Lying within my reach.
My fingers scrabble against the cold, unyielding floor, grasping, clawing—but I’m running out of time. My lungs are screaming, my vision darkening, my body betraying me.
One last stretch, one last agonizing inch. My hand closes around the handle.
I don’t hesitate.
I rip the blade upward, dragging it in a jagged line across his throat.
His grip loosens. His eyes widen in shock.
Blood. Hot, thick, endless spurts from his neck, drenching my hands, my face, my lips.
My stomach lurches, every instinct screaming at me to not inhale, not swallow, to keep my mouth sealed against the flood of him.
His body convulses above me, his breath coming in shallow, wet gasps, his fingers still twitching, but I crawl out from under him.
I scramble away, coughing, heaving, dragging in ragged, burning gulps of air. The floor tilts, my mind spinning, my hands shaking.
But I’malive.
I stagger to my feet, barely registering the mess around me, barely feeling anything beyond the raw, aching reality of survival.
My gun.
I spot it and snatch it up. Without a second thought, I fire one last shot into his twitching body.
Then, I run.
Chapter 58
Santo
Themansioncomesintoview, its once-grand facade now scarred—bullet holes riddling the walls, windows shattered, the entrance marred by violence.
A wave of nauseating anger builds inside me, coiling tight in my chest.
Beyond the danger to my wife, beyond the bodies littering the driveway, beyond the thick, acrid stench of gunpowder and blood—
It’s this.
Our home.
Hersanctuary.
Defiled.
I barely register the corpses, the men swarming my property, my own soldiers flooding in. My focus is singular.
Vasilisa.
I stop the car and bolt, my gun already in my grip.
Behind me, Vaska’s tires screech against the pavement. Then Maksim. Then four more SUVs.
Armed men spill out, a swarm of reinforcements descending onto my home. Gunfire erupts, but I only hear my pounding heart.
