Page 49 of Avenging Devil: Part 2

If their masters gave the instruction to attack, I’m not sure who they’d obey, but turning my head slightly to the left, I can glance behind me. There’s no one there.

Only the dogs for company as my soul leaves this earth.

Fang nudges me, moving down my body, none too gently shoving his nose into the pocket of my shorts where he knows I often kept treats. None today, boy.

When his whiskers meet my bare skin, exposed courtesy of Slit, it tickles, and I try to move away.

I can move.

Gingerly, I try my arms and limbs. My ankle hurts, my wrists throb, but nothing else seems wrong. Belatedly, I realise I’ve been in shock, and that maybe I wasn’t actually shot.

I can’t stay here.

Raising my head, I see the club’s boundary line. It’s far too far away.

Now rather than giving up, my brain kicks into gear. Right now, Niran will probably be being tortured. It’s unlikely he’s dead yet. Knowing Duke, he’ll make his pain last for days. All because he killed Slit to save me.

If I got free, I could contact his club.

The perimeter looks miles away. The chances of me making it are bleak, but knowing the Wolves, they’ll be focused on causing Niran pain, and possibly not watching me. What have I to lose? Only my life, and I’d already given up on that today. On the other hand, I have much to gain.

“Shall we do this, boys?”

K-9 yawns widely, then settles down by my side.

“Would you guard me? Or stop me from trying to get away?”

They might do the latter if I get up and run.

But if I inch away? I give it a try, doing an approximation of the leopard crawl I’ve seen soldiers do on films, dragging my aching ankle behind me.

As I move slowly forward, I realise it’s down to Niran that I have even this slim chance to escape. That shout to run had been the trigger I’d needed. I owe it to him to survive.

I gain another inch, more determined this time.

What would my life have been like if I’d met Niran before Duke?

Even now he’s helping me. The Wolves’ hatred of him is buying me time.

Oh, Niran. I’ll try to get help, but it’s unlikely. He won’t get out alive, and while I’d wish him a quick and painless death, that isn’t the way of the Wolves.

How far can I get until someone looks out and realises my body has shifted?

I move forward again, this time gaining a foot, and then freeze, terrified and listening for shouts, but I hear nothing except for a whirring sound that seems to come from above me. Twisting my head to the side, I risk looking up.

It’s a drone.I’m certain it is—a weird small body with four arms and rotors. There’s no gun on it, so it’s not overtly a threat to me. Is it one of Grit’s new toys? Are they monitoring me?

Feeling my heart rise into my mouth, I go still and play possum once more. K-9 again flops down beside me, while Fang sits on his haunches with his tongue lolling out, as if expectantly waiting for me to get on with this game.

The whirring above me starts to fade and eventually moves off.

I can hear no shouts, no voices, and turning my head the other way, see no signs of movement from the clubhouse. But I can’t get that damn drone out of my mind. If it isn’t Grit’s, whose can it be?

Law enforcement? How would I know?

But one thing’s for certain, I won’t gain anything by staying here. I crawl forward again, then wait. When I glance around, I can’t see the drone. So I do it again, and again, wondering how soldiers manage to make it look so easy when it’s killing my elbows and knees.

The tree line doesn’t seem to be getting any closer, and the clubhouse no further away than when I started. I begin wondering whether I should just get up and run, when suddenly four massive explosions go off, making me yelp and turn in the direction the sounds came from. The dogs leap and start to bark excitedly.

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