pressure of his bite.
“I’m so sorry,” Sasha kept whispering.
Worried that it wouldn’t be enough, she ripped another strip of fabric off and created a tourniquet, tying it tightly around his thigh, just above the knee.
The flashlights were getting brighter, and she could make out the forms of three figures. They were laughing and joking to themselves. She needed to use this situation to her advantage.
Dragging the silenced rifle from underneath Malik, she knelt down in front of him, placed the butt of the rifle into the crook of her shoulder, and stared down the scope. The internal HUD told her she had five rounds. The rangefinder read the group as less than fifty metres away.
A beam of light washed over her. The laughing stopped. She pulled the trigger once, twice, three times. Two bodies hit the ground; the third shot ricocheted off the pipework, creating a spark. The third person pulled a gun from inside his jacket and aimed it at Sasha. She shot for the fourth time, the body fell to its knees, and the fifth shot blew the top of his head off. The body slumped forward with a wet thud.
High with fear and shock, she turned to Malik.
He lay on his back, his right leg held out at an awkward angle within the trap. His eyes were shut, unconscious.
Sasha felt so alone then with no one else to defer to: no General Vickers to scream orders or Jimmy to calmly give her a procedure. She didn’t know the way out, had three corpses at one end, and Malik trapped at the other, and no ammo left in the rifle. She wanted to scream and let out all her rage and frustration.
Kneeling over Malik’s body, she placed her head on his chest, listening to his heart. It still beat regular and strong. She knew he was resilient, given the wounds he suffered at the hands of the Red Widows. They should have killed him, yet he still managed to cling to life.
She just hoped he could do the same until she figured a way out.
***
It may have been the shock kicking in, but eventually Sasha bolted up from Malik’s prone body. There must be something she could do. Couldn’t just leave him there bleeding out.
She moved back down the tunnel to the bodies and checked them for anything useful. Other than a couple of pistols and various personal detritus, they carried nothing of use. She considered the option of taking their clothes and a mask and sneaking out, but that would be no use to Malik. He wouldn’t have long unless she could get him out of the trap.
Moving past the bodies until she came to the door that led into the wide-open area of the plant, she peered round.
Someone yelled from the door that led to the room where they had stashed the other two bodies. The alarm was raised. A young man came rushing out yelling, “They’re dead! That bitch’s gone missing!”
“Fuck!” Sasha said under her breath as the railing on the second level filled with workers and guards alike. They streamed down the stairs to surround the young man as he pointed to the room. It wouldn’t be long before someone came looking.
While their attention was on the boy, she slowly closed the iron door, sliding across the huge metal latch. She dragged the bodies in front of it, piling them up as a barricade. That would buy her some time. She grabbed a flashlight from one of them and sprinted off.
Three more traps, similar to the one Malik hit, were embedded into the floor, hidden by the shadows of the infrastructure on the walls. The ronin must have put them there to dissuade other escapees, which gave her confidence that this was actually a way out. You wouldn’t bother trapping a route that didn’t lead anywhere.
The rest of the tunnel twisted and turned with the flow of the pipes and ducting. She finally came to another door. A glass panel was inset within its iron mass. Inside was a circular five-metre-wide room.
With a feeling of great relief, she saw beams of sunlight bounce off the steel grill floor. A ladder rose up the far wall, the surface of
“I’m so sorry,” Sasha kept whispering.
Worried that it wouldn’t be enough, she ripped another strip of fabric off and created a tourniquet, tying it tightly around his thigh, just above the knee.
The flashlights were getting brighter, and she could make out the forms of three figures. They were laughing and joking to themselves. She needed to use this situation to her advantage.
Dragging the silenced rifle from underneath Malik, she knelt down in front of him, placed the butt of the rifle into the crook of her shoulder, and stared down the scope. The internal HUD told her she had five rounds. The rangefinder read the group as less than fifty metres away.
A beam of light washed over her. The laughing stopped. She pulled the trigger once, twice, three times. Two bodies hit the ground; the third shot ricocheted off the pipework, creating a spark. The third person pulled a gun from inside his jacket and aimed it at Sasha. She shot for the fourth time, the body fell to its knees, and the fifth shot blew the top of his head off. The body slumped forward with a wet thud.
High with fear and shock, she turned to Malik.
He lay on his back, his right leg held out at an awkward angle within the trap. His eyes were shut, unconscious.
Sasha felt so alone then with no one else to defer to: no General Vickers to scream orders or Jimmy to calmly give her a procedure. She didn’t know the way out, had three corpses at one end, and Malik trapped at the other, and no ammo left in the rifle. She wanted to scream and let out all her rage and frustration.
Kneeling over Malik’s body, she placed her head on his chest, listening to his heart. It still beat regular and strong. She knew he was resilient, given the wounds he suffered at the hands of the Red Widows. They should have killed him, yet he still managed to cling to life.
She just hoped he could do the same until she figured a way out.
***
It may have been the shock kicking in, but eventually Sasha bolted up from Malik’s prone body. There must be something she could do. Couldn’t just leave him there bleeding out.
She moved back down the tunnel to the bodies and checked them for anything useful. Other than a couple of pistols and various personal detritus, they carried nothing of use. She considered the option of taking their clothes and a mask and sneaking out, but that would be no use to Malik. He wouldn’t have long unless she could get him out of the trap.
Moving past the bodies until she came to the door that led into the wide-open area of the plant, she peered round.
Someone yelled from the door that led to the room where they had stashed the other two bodies. The alarm was raised. A young man came rushing out yelling, “They’re dead! That bitch’s gone missing!”
“Fuck!” Sasha said under her breath as the railing on the second level filled with workers and guards alike. They streamed down the stairs to surround the young man as he pointed to the room. It wouldn’t be long before someone came looking.
While their attention was on the boy, she slowly closed the iron door, sliding across the huge metal latch. She dragged the bodies in front of it, piling them up as a barricade. That would buy her some time. She grabbed a flashlight from one of them and sprinted off.
Three more traps, similar to the one Malik hit, were embedded into the floor, hidden by the shadows of the infrastructure on the walls. The ronin must have put them there to dissuade other escapees, which gave her confidence that this was actually a way out. You wouldn’t bother trapping a route that didn’t lead anywhere.
The rest of the tunnel twisted and turned with the flow of the pipes and ducting. She finally came to another door. A glass panel was inset within its iron mass. Inside was a circular five-metre-wide room.
With a feeling of great relief, she saw beams of sunlight bounce off the steel grill floor. A ladder rose up the far wall, the surface of
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