Page 72 of The Reaper

Tobias pulled the pin of the grenade and threw it in the direction of The Firm’s assassins. Heath and I covered our ears in time for the explosion. Screams followed the vibrations; the air was thick with dirt, leaves, and smoke, while shrapnel of branches and bark lodged within the perimeter of the explosion.

I peeked to my side and fired the first shot, hitting one of the men trying to find his way through the debris in his chest. They fired back, but without knowing where their targets were, all they managed to shoot were the trees around us. They pushed forward and fired more shots, encroaching on our hiding places. I took a deep breath before pivoting to my left, firing my gun at a dirt-covered figure.

Something dropped feet away from where I had been hidden. It was followed by an explosion of dirt and smoke. I coughed as my mouth filled with hot dirt, spitting out the debris. It missed me by merely a foot. I blew out a breath when I realized how close I came to being blasted into pieces. “Fuck!” I turned around and fired back while Tobias and Heath covered my back until I made it to the next sequoia to find a safe harbor.

Tobias climbed down from his branch, pitching more explosives in their direction once he made it to the ground.

Heath and I exchanged shots with our enemies, but my vantage point was obscured by more trees in front of me. Some of the assassins found where Heath was hiding and blasted a barrage of gunshots, brown tree bark splintering in the air. He ran, dodging the bullets piercing every leaf and bush around him.

The three of us fled deep into the woods, glancing behind us intermittently to see how many of them were still standing. “Fuck,” I said as a fallen branch caught my foot, tripping me. I propelled forward, facedown, my AK-47 hurling out of reach. Tobias and Heath stopped, but I urged them to keep running. Heath hesitated. “Run!” I yelled. He mouthed Fuck, but kept going.

I pulled the gun from my waistband and rolled onto my back as one of The Firm’s assassins towered over me, kicking the gun out of my hand. He aimed his gun at my head.

A single bang reverberated. The hands of the man standing over me fell to his side. His gun dropped to the ground along with his lifeless body, a bullet hole in his forehead.

I scrambled up and looked behind me to find the source of the bullet. Shock couldn’t even begin to describe how I felt as El Jefe rushed toward me.

“I got you, son,” he said, extending a hand, pulling me up.

I picked up my gun and we ran, more bullets ricocheting around us.

“I don’t understand,” I said, shaking my head. “I thought you brought them here.” We took shelter in a cluster of trees, El Jefe peeking to his side.

“I’d been trying to get a hold of you to warn you, but you left your phone in your apartment,” he explained. “Archer, you should’ve come to me.”

Speechless, I pulled him close and wrapped my arms around him.

“It’s okay,” El Jefe said.

“I thought you—”

“They will have to kill me first to get you, son,” he said through gritted teeth. “Those sons of bitches will pay for their crimes.”

“Did you know?” I asked.

“Just a couple of days ago. When they told me to assemble a team to hunt you down. A backup for someone who goes by the name The Bishop.” El Jefe shook his head. “We’ll make them pay.”

The Bishop was Heath. There was no time to discuss him, so instead I asked, “How did they find me?” I thought we’d been careful, but I should’ve known better—this was The Firm, after all.

“They followed you from your grandparents’ home,” he answered. “Ready to fight with me?”

“Till the very end,” I said, and meant every word.

Thirty-Three: The Priest

My legs grew heavier the further they took me into the woods, torn between running from our enemies and retreating to help Archer. Gunshots and footfalls and leaf rustling had overtaken the stillness of the forest; voices echoed through the canyon of trees while the bang of pistols popped like balloons. I glanced over my shoulder, wondering how many more were left standing. It was hard to tell; they appeared to have spread out like the three of us.

My attention went back to Archer. My heart lodged in my throat at the prospect of him being caught. “He’s got this,” I said, convincing myself. He was The Reaper, after all. I sprinted the last few yards between me and the car-sized boulder wrapped in green moss ahead, dodging the strings of bullets coming from behind me.

A piercing force hit my back, causing me to fall to the ground, the impact knocking the wind out of me. I’d been hit, and if it wasn’t for the protection of my bulletproof vest, I would’ve been in a much dire condition.

I pulled myself up, taking deep breaths to calm the dull ache radiating below my shoulder blade. Once back on my feet, I scurried to the boulder for cover.

I sat with my back against the giant rock. It vibrated as a barrage of shots ricocheted off it. Their gunfire ceased momentarily. It was the opening I desperately needed to shoot back. I peeked to my side, aiming my pistol at the man rushing toward me. After a dozen shots, my gun clicked—its clip had fired its last bullet. I released the empty magazine, reloading my ammunition with the one strapped to my waist. I resumed my position, my body shielded by the rock, my hand extended, directed at my enemy, but he reached me before I managed to fire.

He kicked my hand and the gun flew into the air, landing ten feet from us. I yanked his leg and he lost his balance, landing on his back. He turned to crawl to pick up his weapon, but I dragged him back by his feet, his hands grabbing dried leaves instead. He rotated his body, his back to the ground, and swung a leg, his boot connecting with my right cheek.

“Shit!” I touched the spot, which hurt like hell. We stood, and I jumped on his back when he beelined for his gun. Gravity pulled us back to the ground, and I swung my fist at his ear, pain discharging through my hand as my knuckles connected. He grunted in pain before he pushed off the ground and elbowed my side to get me off his back. We rolled, wrestling for control, until his back slammed into a thick trunk. Though he was momentarily stunned, we continued to exchange hit for hit.

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