Revenence (Novella): Dead Red by M.E. Betts Page B

between the dense needle cover, counting the three sadists in the advancing group.  They reached the tree beneath which Daphne hid, one member coming within grazing distance of its bushy lower limbs.  As they did, Daphne slid her hand over the woman's mouth and used her other hand to grab her by the back of her head, yanking her by the hair beneath the cover of the pine before she could scream or even utter a gasp.
         Never ceasing the flow of movement, Daphne placed a hand on each side of the woman's jawbone, twisting to the left sharply.  The loud cracking sound produced alerted the other two sadists nearby.
         "What was that?" one of them whispered.
         "Shit," said the other.  "Where's Lena?"
         Daphne stepped out from the tree, just behind the second of the two sadists.  She drew the knife back behind her head, then arched it into the man's brain stem.  She wrenched it free, producing a wet, cracking sound, then sprang upward  and to her right, swooping  down onto the last of the trio.  The tall, doughy man with graying hair failed to suppress an expression of terror that overwhelmed his features as his hand reached in vain for his shotgun.
         Daphne grabbed and broke the fingers of his right hand as they came in toward the gun, which she herself unholstered and wielded.  She pointed the end at the sadist, who was reeling with the pain of his mangled digits.  Daphne jammed the butt of the shotgun upward, under the chin of the dumpy male.  As his jaws were forced together, he bit off the tip of his tongue, which tumbled from between his lips and onto the ground.  Daphne kicked the towering man's knees out from beneath him, then drove the knife's blade through his temple as he knelt in shock.
         Having eliminated the small group, she turned her attention to others who were nearby.  She raised her arms and hopped up, pulling herself into a branch as several more sadists approached.
         "Get the women out of here!" one of the men ordered from somewhere near the road.
         "What?" another man asked.  "Shit getting too real for them?  Guess they better get used to it."
         "Hey, I'm a card-carrying pink taco vendor here," concurred a female, "and I endorse that statement.  You think we're not tough?  How the hell is it, exactly, that you think we managed to last this long?"
          Daphne had no interest in their partisan squabbling, even if she had been in a state of mind to comprehend it.  Her eyes were glued to the group of four individuals heading her way, their guns drawn.  Just before they passed beneath the branch on which she was standing, she knelt briefly on the limb, grabbing onto a sturdy offshoot with her left hand.  She swung down, hanging by one arm, into the path of an outermost member of the group.  As the two collided, she planted her bare feet into his chest.  With her right hand, as her feet bore down, she plunged the steel knife blade into his open eye, killing him instantly.  She pulled the blade free, pushing with her feet to ease the process, and yanked herself back up and onto the branch, scurrying to the trunk as an eruption of gunfire filled the earth and air where she had been standing and tore into the body of the dead sadist.
         As she swung her weight into the next pine, she heard tones of concession from below and behind her.
         "Not worth it," a sadist was muttering.  "Screw you guys, I'm going to Jonesboro."
         "Shit," said another one, "me, too."
         "The hell you are," said a raspy older female.  "What, and taking our ammo stash with you?"
         "What?  No!  I don't give two shits about the ammo, I just want out."
         Daphne heard a hammer click, followed by muted gasps.
         "I can't let you leave here," said the woman whose voice felt like sandpaper to Daphne's ears.
         "We don't care about taking anything!" a pleading voice insisted.  "Just let us go,