Commodity (29 page)

How did he survive?

“Did you really think I was just going to stand by while you steal my property and blow up my camp?”  He shakes Hannah roughly.

She cries out again, one hand still under her bulging stomach and the other gripping Caesar’s forearm.  I can see the tears on her face from here as she stares at me.

Caesar pulls the gun away from her head and aims it at me.

“I’ve officially had enough of you,” he says.

Oh, fuck.

Even though I know there’s a gun pointed straight at me, the only thing my brain can register is that he has his hands on her.

That motherfucker has his hands on
my
Hannah.

I’d promised her that would never happen again.  I said I was going to keep her safe, and there is no way in hell I’m going to let that asshole get in the way of my promise.

He is going to die.

My body calms.  My heartbeat slows, and my vision sharpens.

My gun is at my hip.  I know Caesar is a good shot—I’ve seen him practice often enough.  I also know I’m better, but I’m at a disadvantage.  His weapon is drawn, and mine is not.  By the time I pull out the gun, he will have had plenty of time to fire.

I’m thirty feet away from them.  If I stand still, he will definitely hit me.  If he hits me, the chances of saving Hannah are drastically reduced.  I have to move fast and unpredictably.  I also have to get her away from him as quickly as possible.  Speed won’t be enough—I need cover.

All of this races through my head in a split second.

The only cover in sight is a faded blue Ford in the street, and I dive forward and roll toward the front tire.  I hear shots fire and Hannah screaming, but I reach my destination without being hit.

“Get your ass out here, Falk!” Caesar yells.  “If you don’t, I’ll put a fucking bullet right in her head!”

“You aren’t going to kill her,” I call from around the tire as I reach for my gun.  “You’re out of women.  You need her alive.”

“Maybe so,” he says, “but I sure as fuck can hurt her.  Maybe that’s what I’ll do.   Maybe I’ll just fuck her in the ass right here while you watch.  Then I’ll put a bullet in your skull.”

I’m not about to fall for that shit.

“I’m the one you want,” I remind him.  “I’m the one who took her from you.  Now why don’t you let her sit off to the side, and we can settle this between the two of us.”

“Is that how you think this is going to go down?”

I take a deep breath and force myself to think for a moment.

Caesar was obviously caught up in the explosion.  He’s also obviously alone, or he’d have his backup hauling Hannah off while he took care of me.  That means he’s the only survivor of that attack, and he was badly hurt.  Hell, he might have completely lost his mind over the whole thing.

A little psychological warfare is called for.

“So tell me something,” I say, trying to draw him into another line of thought.  “When your little base blew up, was your brother there?  Did he burn like the puffed-up marshmallow that he was?  That’s a shit way to go, dontcha think?  I bet he screamed a lot.  Did you hear him?  Did you hear him screaming while he burned?”

“Motherfucker.”  His voice is low, but I still hear the curse.

“I bet you wonder how they found you, huh?  I’ll tell you how.”

“What the fuck do you know?”

“I ordered that attack,” I tell him.  “Yeah, I got my little contact on the other side.  Bet you never suspected that, did ya?  Aliens came right to me, asking me if there was anything they could do to help me out.  Thought to myself, ‘Ya know?  There is this little batch of fucktards over there by Georgia Tech.  Why don’t you just bomb the bejesus out of them for me, huh?’  Their only question was to ask for the precise coordinates.  Nearly took ten minutes.”

“Get out here, you fucker,” Caesar yells.  I can hear his footsteps as he moves toward the street.  If he’s moving toward me, he’s moving away from Hannah.  I only hear the footsteps of one.  “You wanna put the guns down and fight this out?  Because I’d be happy to just go ahead and fuck you up.”

“That sounds pretty ideal to me,” I reply.   “Put the guns down and fight it out, man to man.”

“Sure.”

He’s lying; I can hear it in his voice.  He’s just hoping to draw me out, but I don’t have a lot of options.  If I can’t get to him, we’ll be in a stalemate, and that doesn’t get Hannah to safety.

I step out from behind the Ford with my gun hanging at my side.  Caesar stands the same way with his finger on the trigger.  He’s got a nasty smirk on his face—overconfident and just a little bit crazy.

I drop as soon as I see his arm flex and hear the blast just afterward.  The ground is abruptly in my face, smashing my nose.  There’s a sharp pain in my right arm when I land on it, and I can’t take a breath as the wind is knocked out of me.

Did he shoot me?

I don’t feel any pain like I did when I was shot before.  All the pain is in my arm, but it doesn’t burn.

“I knew I should have put a bullet in the back of your head as soon as I saw you!  That’s what Beck wanted from the beginning!  Kill you and fuck this stupid little bitch sore!”

The words send waves of red-hot rage through me.  I shove as hard as I can with my left hand as I roll myself over onto my back.  I look up to see Caesar’s face, and his gun is pointed right between my eyes.  I don’t have time to think.

I kick at his legs, and the gun goes off again.  I feel chips of cement hit the side of my face as Caesar falls beside me.  I flip over, grab one of his arms and pin it to the ground as I throw a leg over his torso.  I slam my fist into his face as he knocks me in the side of the head with the butt end of the gun.

The hit stuns me, and the next thing I know, Caesar has me pinned to the ground, punching my face.  Hannah stands a few feet from me, her arms wrapped protectively around her middle.  Caesar glances over at her and sneers.

“I told you to get used to the only thing you’re good for,” he says.  “You had your little break.  It’s time for you to get back to work!”

Caesar slams his right fist into my face again.

“You killed Beck, you motherfucker.”  He puts all his weight on his knee, driving it into my gut.  I can’t breathe right, and my right arm is still pinned painfully by his other leg.  “I know you did.”

“Stop!”  Hannah screams.  “Please, stop!”

“Wait your turn, sweetheart,” Caesar calls to her.  “Believe me, once I’m done with him, I’ll be taking a turn on that sweet ass of yours.  Just be patient.”

I jab my left fist into his kidney, and we roll together across the concrete.  I can feel rocks and bits of debris scraping my skin as we go, and another shooting pain runs up my arm.  Caesar kicks out at me, separating us, and we both jump to our feet.

“Yeah, I killed Beck,” I yell at him.  “Wrapped my hands around his neck and squeezed the life out of him.  Watched his eyes bulge out and his face change color.  It takes a long time to kill someone like that, you know?  A lot longer than you think.  Movies and television never get it right.”

Caesar’s jaw flexes and his free hand balls into a fist.

“Cried like a bitch when I cut him, too.  I noticed you didn’t tell anyone about that.  Figured you were waiting for me to slip up, but I’m not that stupid.”

“I knew it was you,” Caesar says with a growl.  “I knew it the whole time.”

“Damn, did he make a fuss about getting cut, too.”  I let out a laugh.  “You served with him, right?  Was he kicked out for being a milk-toast-gumming beta?  I can’t see special ops holding on to a pussy like that.”

He raises his gun again.

We’re close enough to each other that I dive at him, rolling forward quickly.  I hear the blast right behind my head.  I jump to my feet and rush at him, wrapping my arms around his waist and tackling him to the ground before he can get off another shot.  Shooting pain surges up my right arm, and I can’t get a good hold on him.  We roll, and I lose my grip as Caesar’s gun scrapes across the concrete.

We both jump up at the same time, and I reach to my belt and draw my knife.  We stand facing each other while we both catch our breath.  Caesar looks at the knife in my hand and then glances down at the gun.  It’s only a yard away from his feet.

“You are going down,” Caesar says with a growl.

I say nothing and I don’t move.  I can hear Hannah behind me, her breath coming in staccato gasps.  I have to subdue and kill him before he has the chance to go after her.

“Almost caught you back at that house by the river,” Caesar says.  “I must have missed you by about five minutes.  Tracked you for a mile, lost the trail, but then I heard Hannah yapping.  Of course, I recognize her voice.  I’ve heard her screaming often enough.”

He’s trying to distract me, but it’s not going to work.  I clear my mind, keeping my sole focus on him and him alone.  Caesar glances at the gun near his feet, and I grip the knife tighter in my left hand.  I’m less than twenty feet away from him.

Twenty-one feet.  I don’t recall his name, but I remember the instructor at the security training center saying that twenty-one feet was the golden rule.  It’s the distance a running person with a knife in his hand can cover before someone can draw a gun from his holster.  None of us believed him, and we all had to try it.

The guy with the gun failed every time.

As Caesar goes for the gun, I race for him.  My knife is in his gut before he can get a good enough grip on the gun to bring it around.  He gasps, and I pull the knife out, feeling his blood spurting onto my arm.

I jab the knife into him again, and the gun falls back to the ground.  He drops backward, and I go with him.  I raise the knife up and slam it into his chest, feeling the resistance of bone.  I twist it to the side, and shove it between his ribs.

Caesar’s eyes go wide and his mouth hangs open.  I stab him again.

And again.

Blood pours from his mouth.  He reaches up and grabs the edge of my shirt fruitlessly as I pull back and lodge the knife in his neck.

Blood spurts out of his carotid, spraying my face, and I finally sit back on my heels.

My chest burns as I shove off of him.  I cringe when I put a little weight on my right hand in order to stand up.  At least there isn’t a bone sticking out of it.  I take a couple of stumbling steps away from the body and turn to look for Hannah.

She’s up against the retaining wall, sitting with her arms wrapped around herself.  I wipe the blood from my face with the tail end of my shirt and grab both the guns.  I take one last look at Caesar’s body before I go to her.

“It’s okay, Hannah,” I say as I crouch down next to her and lay my hand on her shoulder.  “It’s over.  He’s dead.”

“Are you sure?” she suddenly screams at me.  “I mean, for God’s sake, Falk!  Stab him a couple more times!”

She bursts into tears and grabs onto my neck at the same time.

“It’s all right,” I say.  “You never have to worry about him again.”

She pulls back and looks into my eyes.  I can see it in her face—she isn’t worried about him anymore; she’s worried about me.

“I will always protect you, Hannah,” I whisper.  “No matter what.”

She looks over to the body on the ground.

“So much blood,” she whispers.

“Don’t look.”  I take her face in my hands and turn her to face me.  “Let’s just get out of here.  We’ll get to the others, and you can rest for as long as you want, okay?”

Hannah wipes her eyes, sniffs, and nods.  She winces as I help her to her feet, her arm still around her stomach.  I wrap my arm around her waist to support her as much as I can.  I’m fairly certain my right arm is broken, but I’ll just have to deal with that later.  I don’t know if Caesar had anyone else with him or not.  I don’t think so because someone would have come to his aid before now, but it’s still possible.  It’s getting dark, and I need to get Hannah out of here.

“Can you walk?”

“I think so.”  She’s shaking all over.

I give her a minute to collect herself.  She keeps looking over at Caesar’s body, so I stand in her line of sight.  She looks up at me and scowls.  She knows exactly what I’m doing.

“Let’s go,” I tell her.

“What happened to him?”

“I killed him.”

“I mean, what about all that shit you said about aliens and bombing the camp?  What happened?”

“Later.  We need to get moving.”

“Falk!”  She yells at me, her eyes narrowing.

“Not now!”  I run my hand through my hair out of habit and then cringe as pain shoots up my arm.  “We can’t stay here.  We have to get going.  I’ll explain it all later.”

She continues to look at me sideways as we finally start moving again.  She’s trying to keep up a good pace, but she doesn’t last long.  We stop again, and she grips her stomach with both hands.

“Falk?”  She looks up at me, her voice barely a whisper.  Her eyes are wide and full of fear.

“What is it?”

“I think…I think I might be in labor.”

No.  No, that can’t be.

“I thought you said it was gas?”

“That’s what it kinda feels like,” she says, “but not quite.  And the pains are getting more frequent.”

“You’re not due for weeks, Hannah.”  I shake my head.  There is no way this is happening, not now.

“This isn’t an exact science, you know!”

“But the baby will be too early, won’t it?  You can’t have it yet.”  I don’t believe it.  Maybe if I don’t let her believe it, it won’t be true.