I reached over his shoulder, grabbed the filter from the bottom of his mask, then jerked his head back. I plunged the dagger into his neck and twisted.
The foot soldier elbowed me in the ribs, but I held firm. I pulled the dagger out and ran the sharp edge along his throat, slicing it open for good measure.
He struggled a bit more, then stopped. His body went limp in my arms. I pulled him away from Abby and laid him on the floor. I kicked his lifeless arm out of my way.
I kneeled at Abby’s side, then touched her shoulder. She flinched, lifting her arms up in defense. I pressed my finger to my lips, shushing her.
“It’s me. Calm down. It’s all right,” I said in a whisper.
Abby kept her arms up for a second longer before lowering them. She looked down past her boots at the dead body a few feet away. The light shone on her face, revealing the redness left by the punishing blow.
“There’s no need to look at that. He’s been taken care of and won’t touch you again. Just look at me,” I said, putting her focus back on me.
Jake screamed, pleading for his daughter’s life before being silenced once more.
Naked fear loomed in Abby’s glassy eyes, her face contorted in sheer panic. She looked toward the far end of the aisle, then back to me.
“Stay quiet and follow my lead, all right?”
Abby nodded, but the doubt and terror remained.
I left her side, secured the dagger, and maneuvered the rifle from the dead man’s shoulder. I ejected the magazine, skimmed over the rounds, then slapped it back into place.
Each painful plea from Jake made her wince and cringe. She sat up from the floor and got her feet under her.
I slipped the sling over my chest and shouldered the rifle. I tapped her shoulder. “Stay behind me.”
Abby nodded, rubbing the side of her cheek.
I turned and headed back the way we came. We rounded the shelf and worked our way down the long stretch of aisle toward the front of the store. I thumbed off the light mounted under the barrel of the gun, concealing our whereabouts.
Abby stayed fixed on my back, mimicking every move I made. We turned down one of the aisles and headed for the cash registers. Our footfalls made little to no noise as we closed in on Jake’s panted breaths.
I stopped, turned toward Abby, then pointed at the floor in front of her, whispering, “Wait right here.”
She dipped her chin, then glanced back up to me. I crept closer to the edge of the aisle. Abby stayed put, watching me with wide eyes.
Silence fell over the store. I peeked around the edge of the shelves.
Jake laid sprawled out on his back, looking up at the foot soldier standing over him. The rifle was trained at Jake’s chest, muzzle an inch away from his coat. He remained still.
I moved a few steps back, away from the shelving unit. I took aim through the small opening between the empty shelves.
The foot soldier leaned toward Jake, then smacked his face. Jake stirred on the floor, moving his head about, slow and clunky like. The gunman slapped him again, stood up, then kicked him in the ribs.
I lined up my shot with his upper shoulder wielding the rifle. My finger slipped inside the trigger guard, hugging the kill switch. I took a deep breath, and stepped out from the corner of the aisle.
The foot soldier spotted me. He flinched, brought his rifle to bear, then trained it in my direction.
I squeezed the trigger, firing a single round before he could get a shot off. The bullet hammered his upper shoulder, knocking him off balance and turning him away from me.
He bent over.
I kept the buttstock snug against my shoulder, with the barrel trained at him, and moved in. He turned back toward me, struggling to raise the rifle with his wounded arm. I closed the distance with a slight limp. He turned my way.
“I don’t think so.” I lowered the rifle, then slammed the buttstock into the side of his face.
His head turned to the side, his hands releasing the rifle. He fell to the floor and hit face first. I pried the weapon from his fingers, then removed the sling from around his body.
Jake scurried away on his back side. Abby ran out from the aisle. She threw her arms around his neck, hugging and squeezing him tight. He held her close, then kissed the side of her tender cheek.
“Are you okay?” Jake asked, pulling away and looking her over. She lowered her head, then nodded. “Damn it. They hurt you.”
I set the rifle on the floor near Jake, then spotted the discarded pistol on the floor.
“You all right?” I asked Jake, retrieving the weapon and securing the piece in my waistband.
His face looked bruised and beaten. Blood ran from both nostrils and the side of his busted lip. The skin around his right eye was puffy and irritated. He held onto Abby a moment longer, hugging her tight.
“Yeah. Aside from getting my teeth kicked in, I’m good. Just glad she’s all right.” Jake looked at the foot soldier laying on the floor near him. He twitched and stirred, moving his arms. “What are you going to do with him?”
I peered down at him, then said, “He’s going to tell me where they took my friend.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CORY
The SUV hit the parking lot of the motel at full tilt. The front end rolled over the dip in the road and slammed the pavement. Tires squealed, fighting for traction. I kept the gas pedal mashed to the floorboard and drove past the office, checking the rearview mirror for any vehicles
