“But I didn’t do anything wrong!” Morgan cried.
“I know,” Carly said. “We all know.”
“Mongoloid sons of bitches!” Sasha was beyond fuming now, attempting to force her way past. “Both of you! This is wrong! It’s all bullshit, and both you assholes know it!”
“Ma’am, I told you to get back!” the second guard said, pushing hard on her.
Sasha only pushed back harder. “Are you fucklings so stupid that simple reason eludes you? If someone’s stealing food, line up everyone in this piece-of-shit camp at the infirmary and weigh them on a scale! Beginning with you, McCracken! How many extra pounds of lard have you put on your waistline lately?”
Phil pointed at Sasha furiously. He’d had his last straw. “That’s it—one more word…just one more word out of you, and you’re finished!”
Being held at bay, helpless to prevent Phil the guard from unjustly taking Morgan into custody, Sasha’s internal rage soared to a fever pitch. The last time she could recollect feeling a level of anger even remotely similar was when she used to partake in multiday drinking binges with no sleep prior to a raid or a battle, while dosing methamphetamine to stay awake and sober. Such benders were used systematically by the MC to reach a total lack of feeling, build up petulance and enough fury to fight, maim and torture; and for Sasha, to occasionally put an opposing motorcycle club’s old lady out of her misery.
An incident came to mind connected to an old lady by the name of Janet whose club had intentionally invaded the Marauders’ territory. That degree of disrespect was insufferable, a wrongdoing recompensed only by spilled blood. During the gory melee, Sasha had attacked from behind while Janet was distracted, using a six-inch-diameter snow globe to crush the woman’s skull. Janet had dropped helplessly into convulsions on the pavement, and Sasha put her bootheel to the woman’s face and had stomped until there wasn’t a face to speak of. It had been the most brutal act she had ever imparted upon another human being, and she hadn’t felt a single ounce of remorse, or much of anything else aside from rage. And that same rage was seconds away from making a total comeback.
Sasha backed away from the guard, relinquishing the tussle, her hands signaling surrender as she calculated the scene. “I’m sorry…God, I’m so sorry. I-I don’t know what the hell just came over me.” She fanned a palm at her face. “Ooof…must’ve been a hot flash.”
Looking awfully puzzled, the second guard took Sasha at her word, then regarded his partner, who was in the process of patting his suspect down.
“What are you staring at?” Phil barked. “We got what we came for. I think we’re done here.”
A state of panic washed over Morgan as Phil turned and began pulling her toward the exit by her wrists.
“Hey, don’t start. If you resist, I’ll restrain you really hard,” Phil said, the firmness in his voice increasing. “I guarantee you won’t like it. Keep fighting me, and I’ll snap that feeble body of yours in half like a twig.”
Morgan whimpered her reply and soon gave in, her hope all but vanishing.
Then Sasha sprang, energizing into a live wire without delay. She swung wildly on the guard nearest her, catching him in the chin with her knuckles. The slug dazed him, but wasn’t enough to knock him out, so she swung again and missed, then switched to a lower-body attack. With considerable force, Sasha sent the hardened tip of her riding boot into the guard’s liver. He folded, groaned and keeled over, reaching for his side, appearing unable to breathe.
Watching his fellow guard go down and curl into a ball, Phil let Morgan go and went on the warpath. Overlooking the myriad of nonlethal defense weapons attached to his belt, he lunged at Sasha with both hands and latched viciously onto her throat. His overpowering mass drove Sasha to the floor beneath him, and there he squeezed, choking her with every bit of forearm strength he owned. “You stupid bitch! You just committed a capital crime!” He leaned closer, going damned near nose to nose with her. “That’s punishable by death. And ole McCracken’s going to be your executioner. How do you like that?”
Sasha thrashed about beneath him while fighting to breathe. His grip was like a vise and far too strong for her to overcome. She could feel light-headedness setting in, and was nearing the point of unconsciousness, but she fought against it with what little strength she had left while something occurred to her. In his haste to take her down, Phil the guard had miscalculated and left one of Sasha’s hands free, and that hand was now feeling about Phil’s belt for a weapon.
While Sasha choked and teared up under his grasp, Phil sent a warning to his audience. “The two of you stay back! This bitch had it coming. If either of you interfere, I swear on my grandma’s grave I’ll beat you bloody while the other watches.”
Both girls nodded compliance while whimpering and shedding tears at the sight of their collaborator being murdered in front of them. Just when they thought it was over for Sasha, they heard a snap, followed by a buzz and a round of continuous, slightly audible, minute clicking sounds. Phil released Sasha’s neck as he jolted straight and arched backward into a curve, his body tensing, teeth chattering and muscles pulsating.
While Sasha wheezed and fought for oxygen, she put a hand behind her and shoved Phil’s shaking body with her shoulder, forcing him away while she pushed the Taser probes deep into his belly. “Ugh! Get off me!” She wiggled away, holding the Taser on him until he fell backward, incapacitated. Carly and Morgan moved in to assist her in standing. “Thank you, girls. Now, get back.”
But they only stood there, confused, like a movie scene on pause.
“Dammit, I said get back!” Sasha growled, and the girls took heed this time. “Who’s the executioner now, asshole?”
