Surviving Rage | Book 1

by Arellano, J. D.

  Before he could react, the table struck him in the upper body, knocking him backwards and jarring the gun from his grasp. It fell to the carpet as the big man turned and charged at him, massive fists raised and prepared to rain down on him.

  After listening for a second at the door to the adjacent room, Ashley and Paul slipped inside, keeping their knives raised in front of them. Their eyes scanned the room in unison, covering the space in milliseconds. Finding it empty, they closed the door behind them, then slowly crossed the living room, making their way to the open door to the bedroom.

  Peeking around the corner, Ashley’s breath caught in her throat as her eyes registered two pairs of legs on the floor of the bathroom. One pair was clearly Serafina’s. She recognized the small feet and toes anywhere. Tears began forming in her eyes.

  “Oh no…”

  The feet belonging to her stepmother shifted slightly.

  The larger, boot-clad feet next to hers remained motionless.

  “Auntie?” She called out softly.

  “Unnnhhhh… Ash?”

  Rushing into the room, Ashley knelt beside her stepmother before realizing the man next to her was dead. When she did, she froze in place, shocked by the discovery.

  Serafina worked her way up into a sitting position. “You came…”

  Ashley’s head snapped back as she returned her focus to her stepmother. “Of course we did.”

  “Where’s Daniel?”

  “He’s next door. He’s going to tie up that big biker guy.”

  A loud crash sounded from the room next to theirs, where Daniel was.

  At that moment, Paul’s voice called out in alarm from the living room. “Uhhh, Ash? Sera?”

  Leaning back to look into the living room, Ashley’s breath caught in her throat for the second time in less than two minutes.

  The Sheriff’s large form was standing in the doorway.

  CHAPTER EIGHTY THREE

  Daniel’s mind barely had time to register the large man’s body descending upon him before the man’s knee caught him in his left thigh, smashing the muscle against the bone, instantly creating a knot. Fighting the urge to clutch at the abused muscle, Daniel violently threw his body to the left, causing the man’s momentum to carry him past Daniel. The man crashed to the floor, rolling sideways towards the corner of the room.

  Switching his direction, Daniel rolled his right, coming up lamely on one good leg. His left leg fought him, insisting on remaining straight, as he lowered himself into a shallow crouch.

  The biker grunted as he rose to his feet. His eyes measured Daniel, taking in all one hundred and ninety pounds of him. His smile widened.

  ‘Jesus Christ, I’ve got to be giving away at least seventy pounds to this man,’ Daniel thought, fighting to get his left leg to cooperate.

  The man stepped forward, swinging his massive fist.

  Using a move he’d learned in his youth, Daniel ducked and shifted his weight forward, lashing his right foot out towards the side of the man’s left knee. He connected, hard, but at that moment, his left leg sagged, taking away part of the force his kick carried.

  The man’s knee flexed inward slightly, spraining the ligaments, taking the man to the ground.

  As the man fell, his left fist flashed outward, catching Daniel under his chin, snapping his head back. Stunned, he staggered backwards, trying to stop the room from spinning.

  The big man rose, shifting forward on his unstable knee. He smiled again as he brought his right fist forward, crashing it into the side of Daniel’s head, sending him flying across the room.

  Daniel smashed into the flat screen television, knocking it back into the wall. He fell forward, landing on his stomach on the carpeted floor.

  Within seconds, the big man was atop him, his ham-like hands wrapped around Daniel’s throat, squeezing with seemingly inhuman strength.

  Daniel felt his consciousness fading as his vision began constricting into a small circle.

  “First of all, where’s Kyle?” Halwell asked, staring across the room at the woman and the two teenagers that flanked her.

  Serafina met his gaze unflinchingly.

  “Dead. I killed him. And if you don’t get out of the way, I’ll kill you, too.”

  He scoffed. “Big talk from a little lady. You probably drugged him or caught him by surprise. You won’t have that chance with me.” Striding forward, Halwell raised his gun. “Get down on the ground!”

  The two teenagers obeyed immediately, falling to their knees before stretching out on the floor, face down.

  Serafina didn’t flinch. “Fuck you.”

  Cocking the gun, Halwell stepped closer. “I’m not telling you again.”

  “I’ll tell you again. Fuck you.”

  Frustrated that his gun was empty, Halwell pulled it back and swung it at her head.

  Serafina slid sideways smoothly, bringing the knife she’d retrieved from Kyle up smoothly, slashing the Sheriff along his ribcage.

  Shocked, Halwell looked down at his sliced open shirt, watching as blood spilled forth from the wound.

  “You fucking bitch!” Switching the position of the gun in his hand, he moved in, bringing his fists up. In his mind, he told himself he needed to finish this quickly, because his ribs fucking hurt.

  Serafina continued sliding to her right, bringing the Sheriff away from the two teenagers. When he squared up on her, she spun her knife in her hand smoothly, causing him to pause.

  ‘Hmmmm, what are my options here?’ Halwell thought, watching as the woman played with the knife like it was part of her. He’d clearly come into the fight unprepared. Was his superior size enough?

  Everything was on the line. There was no going back. Failing here meant failing altogether. Everything he’d fought for would be lost, his dreams crushed.

  ‘Not today,’ he said to himself, lunging forward.

  This time he focused his attention on the knife as he threw his left fist forward, ignoring the pain in his ribs. When the knife came out, he slammed the butt of the gun down on her hand, feeling the small bones break under the hardened metal.

  The knife fell from her hand, landing harmlessly on the floor.

  Grinning, he watched as she pulled her hand back, her other hand coming to grasp it instinctively.

  “Now then, bitch.” Bringing his fists up, he advanced on the injured, unarmed woman.

  Daniel knew he had mere seconds before his consciousness completely left him. In his throat, his larynx felt like it had less than that before it collapsed under the pressure of the man’s grip.

  Somewhere in his clouded mind, he remembered the knife he carried in the pocket of his cargo pants. Sliding his hand down, he reached inside the pocket as the man’s fingers pushed further into the flesh of his throat, trying to compress the muscles further into his neck. His hands found the blade as his vision constricted further, barely more than a four inch circle at this point.

  Pulling the blade from his pocket, barely aware of his actions, he flicked it open with practiced ease, flipped it in his hand, and brought it upward, putting everything he had left into the thrust.

  The blade sank into the man’s hip, striking bone.

  With the little bit of strength he had left, Daniel twisted the blade slightly before involuntarily releasing it. His hand fell away, his strength fully expended, as the man screamed aloud, falling off of him, releasing his grip on Daniel’s throat.

  Daniel gasped loudly as he tried to pull oxygen into his body. His throat ached as he tried to swallow, desperate to recover. The man was injured, but far from dead, and there was no doubt that this was a fight to the death.

  “You motherfucker!” The man roared, his hand coming down to grasp the blade.

  Daniel’s watched the man through clouded vision and took a wild chance, striking out with his foot towards the man’s hand as he grasped the knife. While it wasn’t a perfect hit, his foot did graze the man’s hand as it grabbed the hilt of the knife, pushing the knife
against the muscle, slashing into it further.

  “Ahhhhh!!!!”

  Daniel rolled away, still gasping as his lungs threatened to reject the lifesaving oxygen that flowed into them.

  A hand grasped the back of his neck, pulled him backwards, then threw him forward, slamming his head into the front of the TV stand. As he fell back onto the carpet, Daniel watched in slow motion as the flat screen monitor swayed towards the wall, then fell forward, landing on top of him, coating him in bits of shattered glass.

  Rising to his knees, the biker pulled the knife from his hip. Staring into Daniel’s eyes, he threw himself downward, the knife blade descending in a deadly arc.

  It was all Daniel could do to shift slightly on the floor.

  The knife’s blade came down like a lightning strike cutting through muscle and tendon as it sunk into the front of Daniel’s left shoulder before its tip cut through the carpet and embedded itself in the wooden floor underneath.

  Again, Daniel felt his consciousness fading as the man rose above him.

  ‘He’s too damn big,’ he told himself as the man pulled his boot back.

  Slipping out through the front door, Logan crept forward until he was next to the Sheriff’s SUV. Opening the door, he quickly reached inside and turned off the dome light, then withdrew the high-powered rifle that was mounted on the ceiling.

  Smiling to himself, he ejected the magazine and checked to see how many rounds it held .

  Twelve. More than enough.

  All that waiting was about to pay off.

  Popping the magazine back in place, he flicked off the safety and moved forward until he was near the SUV’s front bumper. Rising to his feet, he steadied his arm against the hood of the vehicle as he rested the butt of the gun against his shoulder.

  Setting his sights on one of the men that was firing into darkness he pulled the trigger. The man’s body was thrown forward into the truck he hid behind.

  The men never anticipated being attacked from behind.

  Smoothly and efficiently, Logan moved the rifle from side to side, picking off the men as they crouched down, hiding from the arrows that rained down from above.

  Halwell’s fist lashed out, aimed at Serafina’s face. She dodged backward, causing him to miss wildly, sending him spinning off balance.

  How the hell? She should have been in too much pain to see that coming!

  Turning back, he lunged towards her.

  As he did, Ashley’s foot caught him squarely in the crotch.

  He fell to his knees, eyes bulging as his hands came down to cradle his genitals.

  The girl stepped forward, pulling her foot back again. When it flashed forward, he grabbed it and spun, using his body weight to send her flying across the room. She crashed into one of the barstools, her head whipping back against one of the wooden legs. Her body fell forward, coming to rest face down on the wooden floor of the kitchen area.

  Making his way to his feet, he advanced on Serafina again, this time determined to end her life.

  When Serafina saw him coming towards her, she rose to her feet as well, letting her injured left hand hang loosely at her side. Her right hand came up in a fist, but it was clear that hand to hand combat wasn’t a strength for her.

  Arms grasped Halwell from behind, a forearm sliding down and around his throat, trying to squeeze against his windpipe. Spinning to the side, he swung his body, forcing the person to slide off of him. Seeing it was the young teenage boy, he brought his knee down on the center of the boy’s back, holding him in place. He crouched down, bringing his left arm underneath the boy’s left arm, then pulled upward.

  He moved his mouth close to the boy’s ear, then asked, “Did you know it only takes forty foot- pounds of pressure to dislocate a shoulder?”

  As the boy’s mind registered the implications of his question, he pulled upward violently, yanking the boy’s arm from its socket. The boy screamed in pain before falling forward onto the carpet, his arm flopping loosely at his side.

  Grinning in satisfaction, Halwell turned back towards the woman. ‘Time to finish this,’ he thought, looking at the woman through his rage-filled eyes. He was in a zone now, fully focused on inflicting pain, and nothing would stop him.

  He threw himself at Serafina, knocking her back onto the carpet, causing her head to bounce off the floor. He brought his hands to her throat and began squeezing, intent on forcing the life out of her.

  A burning pain shot through his ribs as a bullet tore through him, ripping through his intestines before piercing his left lung. His eyes looked down in shock, finding Kyle’s pistol in Serafina’s hand as he fell sideways off of her. He flopped to the carpet, his hand coming up weakly to try to stop the flow of blood from his side.

  Within seconds, he was dead, his eyes still staring at Serafina in disbelief.

  Somehow Daniel found the strength to pull away as the man’s boot flashed forward, causing it to glance off his chin instead of catching him squarely in the head. As he moved, the knife pulled out of the carpet, remaining lodged in his shoulder.

  Instinctively, he simply kept rolling, trying to increase the distance between himself and the massive biker.

  The boot was undeterred, flashing forward again. It crashed into his ribs, breaking two of them as if they were small twigs.

  Unable to hold back, Daniel cried out in pain.

  The man grinned at him widely, eyes filled with satisfaction.

  As he stepped forward, the sound of a gunshot came from the next room. Pausing, the man looked at Daniel, then towards the shared wall with the adjacent room. Spinning on his heel, the man said, “I’ll be back for you.”

  Knowing Serafina and the girls were in the next room, Daniel called on every bit of strength, will, and adrenaline he had left, forcing himself to his feet. Half-dazed, he pulled the knife from his shoulder, ignoring the waves of pain that accompanied the effort. He moved the knife low, keeping it out of sight by his hip.

  ‘You can’t let him leave, Daniel. He’ll kill them. You can’t lose this fight.’

  Even if it kills you.

  On wobbly legs, Daniel called out to the man. “Is that all you got?”

  The man stopped in the doorway, then turned back to face Daniel. An irritated look crossed the man’s face. “Fuck this.”

  Lowering his shoulder, the man charged at Daniel.

  At the last possible second, Daniel allowed his body to fall downward, ducking under the man. Swinging the knife with his good hand, he buried it deep in the man’s right leg, severing the femoral artery. The man’s momentum added to his effort, as his forward motion pulled against Daniel’s blade, dragging its razor sharp edge down the leg, flaying it open. The knife flew from Daniel’s hand as the man went past, crashing into the small dining table near the sliding glass door. He crashed into it, sending it backwards into the glass door, breaking it.

  The man landed on his side, looking down at his leg in disbelief as blood gushed forward from the wound in amounts and at a rate that seemed impossible.

  “Motherfuck - ”

  The man fell backwards, his head knocking a chair aside before hitting the carpet.

  Rising to his knees, Daniel struggled to rise, intent on verifying the man’s death before his strength finally left him.

  “You son of bitch!”

  Barely able to rise to keep himself steady on one knee, Daniel looked over his shoulder towards the door to the room.

  The other biker stood there, his neck, shoulders, and face covered in dried blood. He lifted a gun and pointed at Daniel.

  “Turn around motherfucker!”

  On shaky legs, Daniel turned slowly, bringing himself to face the man. Rage covered the man’s face as he centered the barrel of the gun on Daniel’s chest.

  ‘So this is how it ends,’ Daniel thought, closing his eyes.

  A booming sound filled his ears, echoing throughout the room.

  Feeling only the injuries inflicted by the giant biker, Daniel o
pened his eyes in surprise.

  The center part of the man’s chest had been obliterated, blasted into the room by the force of a shotgun blast, spraying the walls, furniture, and Daniel. What was left was a gaping hole, burned around the edges by the hot metal pellets that had passed through. The man looked down in disbelief, blinked twice, and fell forward onto the carpet, landing with a thud.

  Looking towards the doorway, Daniel saw a middle-aged blonde woman standing there holding a shotgun, its barrels still smoking from the discharge. She lowered the gun slowly, her eyes fixed on the man she shot. “That’s for Carl and Michael, you piece of shit.”

  Through a haze, Daniel watched as tears burst forth from the woman’s eyes. She dropped the shotgun unceremoniously, letting it fall to the floor with a thud, then sank to her knees as sobs wracked her body.

  Still unsure about who she was, he fought to maintain consciousness against the pain that radiated from his shoulder.

  And throat.

  And ribs.

  And chin.

  The room spun suddenly as his body and mind tried to deal with the pain that flowed through his body in throbbing waves. The adrenaline he’d relied on throughout the last hour left his body in a rush, and with it, his ability to hold on. He fell to the carpet, his consciousness fleeing as he mind shut out the pain, drifting away into sweet nothingness .

  CHAPTER EIGHTY FOUR

  Pain wracked Daniel’s body as his consciousness returned. Grimacing, he opened his eyes, expecting to see the exposed rafters of the room he’d been in when he’d fought the giant biker. Instead, he saw the high ceilings of the lobby.

  “Dad?”

  Instinct told him he needed to move slowly, so he moved only his head in the direction of the voice in small, methodical movements. Brenna’s face came into view, her eyes filled with concern. She sat on a chair next to the sofa on which he rested, watching over him as he rested.