Page 28 of Captured By the Scaled Outlaw
I worry my lower lip, the intensity of the situation turning my stomach into knots. Lowell was right: I don’t want to be left with whatever orwhoevercould take him down.
Gripping my crossbow, I scoot backward until my shoulder hits the sandcycle’s footrest. Hastily loading another bolt with my bow in my lap, I keep focused on the criminals as they descend the scaffolding with weapons raised.
Lowell approaches them, his posture nonchalant and relaxed. He doesn’t seem afraid at all.
What appears to be the leader at the front of the group shrugs his shoulders, a cocky smirk beneath his unkempt beard. “How nice of you to show up at our front door, Lowell. Saves us the trouble of huntin’ you down,” he says, crossing his arms. “But I could have done without the destruction of our base. That’s rude, ya know? Even for you.”
The sun glints off of Lowell’s bared fangs.
The leader flashes a self-satisfied smile. “We got heaps of piercin’ bullets locked and loaded into our weapons, so you’re better off complyin’. No sense in taking part in the ‘dead’ part of ‘dead or alive’, right?”
I squint my eyes skeptically. No way they have that kind of money. Piercing bullets are more expensive than a month’s worth of food, easily.
He’s definitely lying.
I carefully observe the men, critically analyzing their movements with what little time I have before violence inevitably breaks out. I notice that only the criminal on the far left has piercing bullets, as indicated by the way his hand sags from the increased weight. His wrists are trembling, aim wavering.
Lowell sighs, running a hand over his slick forehead. “Killing you all will be such a nuisance. Just let us through, yeah?”
The leader’s eyes widen in disbelief while the others laugh jovially. “Are you daft? You’re outnumbered, without a weapon! Surrender like a good animal and we’ll only torture your lady friend—” he winks at me, lecherously. “—a bit.” He cackles.
The other bandits snicker at his comment.
Lowell growls with such power the sand vibrates in neat circles beneath his feet.
The leader turns his head to face the men behind him. “Seems like he didn’t like that one,” he antagonizes, pointing a finger forward. “Prepare to take out his legs if he gets too rowdy.”
At the leader’s cue, the men positioned themselves in an ideal formation to fire.
“Now let’s try this again, Lowell. Considerin’ complyin’ now?” The leader asks smugly.
I don’t need to see Lowell’s face to know he’s sneering. This will quickly get out of control if I don’tact fast.
Adrenaline courses through my veins, and everything slows to a near halt. There is no time to think or plan, just shoot.
I have to do what I can to support Lowell, even if it kills me.
Chapter 11
Unable to rest and steady my scope without drawing suspicion, I quickly realize that my only option is to point and shoot. While it’s no sniper’s preferred position to be stuck in, it’s all I’m left with. Lucky for Lowell, Grandma forced me to practice shooting from the hip for hours until I had no strength left to lift my arms.
Hastily lifting my crossbow from my lap, I point the tip at the criminal who has piercing bullets loaded into his firearm. I don’t have time to focus or rethink. It’s only a matter of time until one of the criminals gets hasty, or Lowell’s temper wins out.
I pull the trigger and the bolt releases with athump.My target stumbles backward with a bolt now lodged in his chest, bullets spraying wildly from his gun. The others recoil, dropping or lowering their weapons in surprise to the sudden gunfire.
“What in the hell?!” the leader shouts, desperately trying to gain control by shouting both expletives and commands. His words are muddled, drowned out by the chaos of screams and shouts. Criminals scatter like mice in every direction. Any chance the leader has for recovery dies as my target falls to the ground flat on his back, his empty firearmclickingwith every strike of the hammer.
Still startled and fleeing, the men take refuge behind metal debris and unload bullets into Lowell’s chest. Each one bounces off like a pebble against a brick wall, burying themselves into the ground with acloud of dust trailing behind.
Lowell remains unfazed. If anything, the hindrance only seems to make him more excited. While I can’t see his face, the horrified expressions the criminals wear tell me that he must look more crazed than I have ever seen him before. At times like this, I’m grateful we are on the same side.
The leader selfishly pushes past his subordinates in a desperate attempt to flee, but Lowell catches up to him without even breaking into a jog. His long reptilian legs glide across the terrain with ease, not at all hindered by the loose grains that swallow up my boots with a single step.
Sinking both claws into the leader’s shoulders with a quick swipe, Lowell lifts him into the air like a spectacle for all to see.
“Got you,” Lowell chortles.
A bloodcurdling scream tears from the leader’s chest as he’s ripped in half down the middle slowly, Lowell’s back muscles flexing as he pulls the man apart.
