by Walls, Annie
He sniffs. “Put it away.”
I roll my eyes at his authoritative tone. I hate being told what to do. I move around the couch and realize Dex lies on his lap. Purring it up. Traitor. I focus on Stevenson. “What’s happened?”
He nods almost unnoticeable. I jump, excited but startled when I see a man move from the shadows, but then I recognize who it is. Ugh. Anyone but him. His arm flashes out grabbing me. Somehow, someway, I see the gleam of the needle and my instincts kick in. My arm darts back grabbing him by the neck as I bash my head into his. His grip loosens in surprise, and I give him an elbow to the ribs. The needle clatters to floor and I shove him into the wall and pictures fall and glass shatters. I gain space and take a stance. “What the fuck is this?” I yell.
“Calm down, Miss Moore. We’re wasting time.” I don’t let the general distract from the pig in front of me. He smiles as though entertained right before rushing my midsection. I tense, but at the last second he fakes me out and slams his fist into my face, catching my left eye and the bridge of my nose. The pain stuns me as a gush of fluid trickles from my nostrils. Then I’m airborne on his shoulder but I use all of my weight for an elbow to the neck. He groans and wobbles, but he keeps his grip on me.
Panic starts in and I struggle, kicking and flailing my arms. “Put me down!” My foot finally connects with something, and by the sound he makes, it’s his groin. He falls forward and I land on my ass in front of him. I spit blood that dripped into my mouth in his eyes. Both of my boots snap forward for a satisfying kick to his face and I revel in the sound of it. He crashes back into the coffee table, splintering wood.
Flight time.
I barely make it to the entryway before he’s on top of me and pins me with his massive body. His hot breath huffs in my ear as he tries to hold my arms. I use my head again, but he’s waiting for it this time and puts me in a painful headlock by tilting my head backward. I curse myself for trying to run. I had him, dammit!
Fresh anger surges through me. Flattening my palms to the floor, I push with a renewed burst of adrenaline. The desired effect scores. Chauncey’s lower body slips to the side unable to grip me with his thighs. His hold loosens on my neck and I’m able to slide onto my butt. He twists my left arm behind my back. Even as pain shoots through my upper body, I use my right arm to wrench his head down and smash his face into my knee. This gives me an out and I take it, twisting and throwing myself on his back. I bash his head against the floor with a loud crack. He screams when I press my fingertips in his eye sockets.
General Stevenson’s legs walk into my line of sight, but I press my knee into Chauncey’s back with a battle cry.
An arm comes around my neck and my head is tugged back. Chauncey takes this opening to roll away with a grunt. “No! No!” I renew my struggles. Blood splatters from my nose at my efforts to breathe. I feel the sharp jam of the syringe and groan from the pain. “B-bastard,” I gargle out and then nothing.
Acknowledgments
A big thank you to Lindsay Galloway at Contagious Edits. You’re a life saver. Thanks to all minions and early readers who read Bailing Out into the Dead when it was on my website, who pushed me to publish because we all know Rudy deserves his own story.
About the Author
Annie Walls is an author of dark and urban fantasies. She resides as a hermit in Tennessee and stays far away from society whenever she can.
For More Information…
@theanniewalls
Annie Walls
www.AnnieWalls.com
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Also by Annie Walls
Taking on the Dead
Controlling the Dead
Coming May 2017:
Living with the Dead