at me from nowhere.
“Donavan, what are you doing? We’re friends,” Corduroy says slowly, laying his gun flat on his palm. “Back away, Martin. Don’t push her. She’s more dangerous than you think.”
“Get out of the forest.” I force the words through clenched teeth, happy Corduroy thinks I’m insane if that’s what it takes to save his life. And when I see the slight twitch in his middle finger I know I have the upper hand. It’s taking everything he’s got not to reach for his gun. And the only thing stopping him is that he knows in a shootout I’ll win.
I glance around peripherally relieved Jonathan is nowhere to be seen. At least he has the sense to stay out of this. One less thing I have worry about.
“So, what’s up, Donovan? How’s that new assignment working out?” Corduroy asks using a stall tactic taught to us in Basic.
And there’s the truth. Cord does know I was sent to Ops. He’s only surprised to see me alive.
“I can’t let you kill anymore Khayal. They’re not what you think,” I say, keeping up the unstable charade. There’s only one thing that scares a trained killer and that’s an equally trained killer who’s flipped out.
A few impossible scenarios flash in my mind. I’m fast and accurate, but even with speed I’m not fast enough to reload against two targets at once. I’d have to take out Corduroy’s gun hand and restring before Martin could catch me with her arrow. I glower at Miss Prissy-Face. She’s ruining everything. For a brief moment I imagine what it would be like to shoot her. If I pulled back just right…
I shove the morbid thought away just as Martin aims blindly at the shadows buzzing overhead. Both of her arms lift in the air. I could do it. She’s an easy target.
But not even revenge on Martin is worth committing murder. Think of why you’re here! I order myself, fighting off a barrage of mixed emotions. You came here to help Lindy. You can do that now. All she needs is a Khayal. Feel your new strength pulsating through your muscles. Think what it can do for Lindy. You just need to get out of here. Alive.
At some point, as I’m battling back and forth with my own conscience, it dawns on me that these thoughts might not be entirely my own.
“You look crazy, Donavan. We’re gonna go, okay?” Corduroy staggers back two steps and glares fiercely at Martin, warning her not to challenge me. “Take it easy. We’re leaving.” He puts his hands in the air.
Five consecutive booms echo through the trees. The next team of hunters is getting closer. So close that the next bullet whizzes past my ear and ricochets off a boulder.
“Drop it,” Agent Jackson’s cool voice growls behind me.
My single arrows won’t stand a chance against two guns and Martin. Then, just as I’m about to lay down my bow, a multitude of colorful wings appear out of nowhere, dive-bombing all three of their heads in synchronized precision.
Martin screams, her fluffy hair twirling in a cyclone around her shoulders. Corduroy cusses, throwing his arms over his head. Jackson empties a full clip, killing five Khayal before I can react.
In a split-second decision, I take the only chance I’ve got. I aim and pull, my breath releasing with the arrow. The arrow sticks in Jackson’s right shoulder. Shock stunning his face, he topples forward, unconscious.
“You have no choice,” a little fairy says in my ear.
I stifle the guilt burning my throat and zero in on Martin before she can cock her crossbow.
My arrow slices clean through her forearm.
“Donavan!” Corduroy’s voice screeches through the commotion.
“You bitch!” Martin hisses, she doesn’t sound so girly now. “Christ!” she spits through highly-glossed lips as she rips off her belt, tying off the wound above the arrow. “Dang it, shoot her! And get me to the medic!” she shrieks at Corduroy. “You’ll pay for this, you traitor!”
My attention shifts to Corduroy. His gun is drawn and aimed at
“Donavan, what are you doing? We’re friends,” Corduroy says slowly, laying his gun flat on his palm. “Back away, Martin. Don’t push her. She’s more dangerous than you think.”
“Get out of the forest.” I force the words through clenched teeth, happy Corduroy thinks I’m insane if that’s what it takes to save his life. And when I see the slight twitch in his middle finger I know I have the upper hand. It’s taking everything he’s got not to reach for his gun. And the only thing stopping him is that he knows in a shootout I’ll win.
I glance around peripherally relieved Jonathan is nowhere to be seen. At least he has the sense to stay out of this. One less thing I have worry about.
“So, what’s up, Donovan? How’s that new assignment working out?” Corduroy asks using a stall tactic taught to us in Basic.
And there’s the truth. Cord does know I was sent to Ops. He’s only surprised to see me alive.
“I can’t let you kill anymore Khayal. They’re not what you think,” I say, keeping up the unstable charade. There’s only one thing that scares a trained killer and that’s an equally trained killer who’s flipped out.
A few impossible scenarios flash in my mind. I’m fast and accurate, but even with speed I’m not fast enough to reload against two targets at once. I’d have to take out Corduroy’s gun hand and restring before Martin could catch me with her arrow. I glower at Miss Prissy-Face. She’s ruining everything. For a brief moment I imagine what it would be like to shoot her. If I pulled back just right…
I shove the morbid thought away just as Martin aims blindly at the shadows buzzing overhead. Both of her arms lift in the air. I could do it. She’s an easy target.
But not even revenge on Martin is worth committing murder. Think of why you’re here! I order myself, fighting off a barrage of mixed emotions. You came here to help Lindy. You can do that now. All she needs is a Khayal. Feel your new strength pulsating through your muscles. Think what it can do for Lindy. You just need to get out of here. Alive.
At some point, as I’m battling back and forth with my own conscience, it dawns on me that these thoughts might not be entirely my own.
“You look crazy, Donavan. We’re gonna go, okay?” Corduroy staggers back two steps and glares fiercely at Martin, warning her not to challenge me. “Take it easy. We’re leaving.” He puts his hands in the air.
Five consecutive booms echo through the trees. The next team of hunters is getting closer. So close that the next bullet whizzes past my ear and ricochets off a boulder.
“Drop it,” Agent Jackson’s cool voice growls behind me.
My single arrows won’t stand a chance against two guns and Martin. Then, just as I’m about to lay down my bow, a multitude of colorful wings appear out of nowhere, dive-bombing all three of their heads in synchronized precision.
Martin screams, her fluffy hair twirling in a cyclone around her shoulders. Corduroy cusses, throwing his arms over his head. Jackson empties a full clip, killing five Khayal before I can react.
In a split-second decision, I take the only chance I’ve got. I aim and pull, my breath releasing with the arrow. The arrow sticks in Jackson’s right shoulder. Shock stunning his face, he topples forward, unconscious.
“You have no choice,” a little fairy says in my ear.
I stifle the guilt burning my throat and zero in on Martin before she can cock her crossbow.
My arrow slices clean through her forearm.
“Donavan!” Corduroy’s voice screeches through the commotion.
“You bitch!” Martin hisses, she doesn’t sound so girly now. “Christ!” she spits through highly-glossed lips as she rips off her belt, tying off the wound above the arrow. “Dang it, shoot her! And get me to the medic!” she shrieks at Corduroy. “You’ll pay for this, you traitor!”
My attention shifts to Corduroy. His gun is drawn and aimed at
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