Page 97 of Boulder's Weight

Razor puts a bullet in his head before he can recover, brain matter splattering across the floor.

The second guy takes cover behind a doorway, shooting wildly in our direction.

I wait for him to show himself again, then squeeze the trigger of my gun.

The blast catches him square in the chest, the force lifting him off his feet and slamming him into the wall.

He slides down, leaving a smear of crimson.

The third man realizes he's outgunned and makes a break for it, bolting toward the door.

I charge after him, catching him by the back of his shirt and using my momentum to slam him face-first into the wall.

His nose breaks with a satisfying crunch.

Before he can recover, I spin him around and drive my fist into his throat, crushing his windpipe.

He drops to his knees, gasping and clutching his neck, eyes bulging.

I grab a handful of his hair and yank his head back. "Who sent you?"

He tries to speak but can only gurgle, blood bubbling from his lips.

I slam his head against the wall, my impatience growing. "Andrés know we were coming? Someone tip him off?"

The guy shakes his head weakly, face turning purple as he struggles for air that won't come.

Disgusted, I let him drop to the floor, his body twitching as he slowly suffocates.

"We got company!" Python shouts from the window. "Two more cars pulling up!"

"Fuck!" I grab the nearest gas can and start dousing everything in sight.

Razor hollers at us all. "Light it up! We're leaving!"

Python flicks his lighter, tossing it onto the gasoline trail.

Flames erupt instantly, racing across the floor and up the walls.

The heat hits, wafts up, hitting everything around me.

Sweat instantly beads on my forehead.

We make for the back exit, guns ready.

Outside, I can hear shouting, car doors slamming.

Andrés's reinforcements, too late to save their stash but just in time to cause us more trouble.

The first one rounds the corner as we burst through the back door.

I don't hesitate, fighting like my life depends on it.

The bullet catches him square in the face, and even though he’s dead, his body continues forward a few steps before collapsing.

Razor shouts, laying down covering fire as the brothers race for our motorcycles, stashed in the alley behind the building. "Bikes! Now!"

A bullet whizzes past my ear, close enough that I feel the air change.

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