“Wait!” Anouk yelled back, but judging by another sharp burst of hisses and clanks, he did the opposite. Anouk cursed. This was akin to the chase of the captain in The Pits just a few days earlier, all over again. The chase Nat promised not to repeat. The chase that almost got him killed. If he dared to die now… She didn’t want to finish her thought. She put it to the back of her mind and ran up the final set of stairs.
Catching the edge of the top step, she fell against the iron door. Her hand hit the flat surface, in turn, knocking the revolver from her grip. The gun bounced from the landing into the void.
“Shit!” She lunged after it, but the weapon was already half way down the stairwell. Shit! No time to go after it. She unsheathed her katana and pushed the door open. The heat, smoke and noise welcomed her like a wet towel smacking her in the face.
After recovering from the shock of the elements, she glanced around, searching for Nat and the captain. They were running along the catwalk, exchanging fire like two boys playing cops and robbers. Only, cap guns were replaced with real ones, and this was a matter of life and death, not a harmless child’s game.
She looked around again. They had reached the top floor, so Stalo had to be there somewhere. In the periphery of her vision, something moved… she spun around. A man in dark overalls stood on the catwalk just a few yards away. His right arm rested in a sling. Anouk’s heart stopped—Stalo!
A smile spread on the warlord’s sadistic face and he beckoned her, hooking his index finger. Anouk’s legs turned to lead. Her whole body screamed, urging her to flee, but she was incapable of movement. Her worst nightmare was coming true; she was about to face him alone. She needed Nat… now.
She searched frantically for him but he was running away from her, chasing Captain Biddulph. Her heart dropped all the way to the factory floor. She turned back to face Stalo. Clutching her katana, she resumed the combat stance, placing the sword in front of her.
“Anouk, don’t be such a weakling,” she muttered, eyeing Stalo. He hadn’t shot her although he must have had an opportunity. He had to be unarmed.
Stalo hooked his index finger again, this time in an exaggerated slow motion, his eyes fixed on Anouk. She licked her dry lips and took a step… then another. He spun on his heels and sprinted. As if from a signal, Anouk darted after him. It was time to succeed in her mission. She had to at least try.
They ran along the catwalk, Anouk gaining on him. Stalo craned his neck. At the last second, Anouk spotted a barrel of a gun under his arm. She squealed and jumped sideways, bumping into the wall. A sharp pain shot up her shoulder, making her suck the air. Had she been hit? She looked down her shoulder but no hole was apparent nor blood gushing from a gunshot wound. Neither was there a burning sensation reminiscent of being hit in her side at Rose’s house a few days earlier. No, it was simply her body colliding with the brick wall.
She started to blow out a sigh of relief, but it froze on her lips—the catwalk was empty.
“Where the hell did he go?” She looked around frantically. Nat and Captain Biddulph were also nowhere to be seen. Panic tightened around her chest. How stupid of her to think Stalo was unarmed. She should have killed him immediately rather than allow herself to be tricked. Anouk took a firmer hold of her katana. “Get a grip for fuck’s sake and find him. It’s not over until it’s over.”
Holding the sword in front of her, she edged forward. Stalo couldn’t have passed her so he had to be hiding somewhere further down. Maybe he was lurking behind the beam in the wall just a few yards ahead. The edge of her sword shook as she approached the pillar. Her breath came shallow and quick.
A shadow at her sight edge made Anouk lurch backwards as Stalo landed where she would have been, holding out his hand. She screamed, slashing her sword diagonally down. Only a soft resistance transmitted from her katana to her clutching hands when it cut through Stalo’s muscles and bones from his shoulder to his waist.
Stalo’s face reflected the same surprise as the man she had killed in The Pits earlier that week. In a slow motion, Stalo fell back. He crashed against the railing that gave in under his weight. His body kept falling, vanishing from Anouk’s view.
After what seemed to be a small eternity, the high screeches of the machines in the production line told her what she didn’t want to see or hear; the body of the former warlord had smashed on the factory floor. By now the workers would know something was going on above their heads, but she couldn’t bring herself to worry about suchlike.
She sank to her knees, staring at the blood-stained blade, her whole body shaking. She bent double and purged, her stomach content sieving through the mesh of the catwalk. Cold sweat poured on her forehead, and she purged again. A gentle hand touched her shoulder and Nat knelt down next to her.
“Are you alright?”
Anouk stared at him, too weak to say anything or to stand up. Nat pulled her into his arms and held her there. The feel of his body broke her numbness and she curled up in a ball, sobbing against his chest.
When Anouk started to calm down, Nat murmured next to her ear, “It’s over.”
“Captain Biddulph?” Anouk asked between her tears.
“Dead.”
It was indeed over. Against all the odds, they had completed their mission, and they were both still alive. Stalo was no longer a threat to her or Nat. She could
