Page 151 of Dirty Eoin

“How did you manage that?”

“I can’t say.”

“You having access to a gun doesn’t change the fact that I have a sword hanging over my head.”

“I realize that.”

“And how do you suggest we get around that small problem?”

“I’m going to let go of the rope then run and push the sword out of the way before it connects with your skull.”

“What if you trip?”

“Then it’s game over for you.”

“What if it cuts you in half?”

“Then it’s game over for me.”

“It’s not much of a plan.”

“Well, it’s all we’ve got, unless you’ve got any better ideas?”

“You know fine well that I haven’t.”

“Then we are where we are. Any last words in case at least one of us makes it out of here alive?”

“Tell my boys that I love them. You?”

“Same.”

We both take in what could well be our final surroundings. The old stone-walled room with its ancient artefacts.

I don’t say another word. I don’t let my nerves get the better of me. I don’t let the now-familiar taste of vomit deter me either.

I simply count down in my head.

Three.

Two.

One.

I let the rope go and I run, grimacing in pain when the blade cuts into my shoulder as I struggle to push it backward. It moves freely, which means it hasn’t connected with anything or anyone else.

Yet.

I can’t see the blood, but I can feel it instantly turning cool in the freezer-like conditions. Not that my bleeding matters. The only thing that matters is hearing the sound of metal as it collides with the stone flooring.

I’m breathing heavily.

It has nothing to do with running or the exertion of pushing the heavy blade away. My heart is pounding over the permanent image now engraved in my brain of what I could have been facing had I been too slow.

Roisin is pale. I didn’t announce that I was going to act. I just did it.

It was intentional. That way, if I had been unsuccessful, her death would have been pretty much instantaneous, which is all any of us can ever hope for.

I glance at the wound on my shoulder which is currently dripping blood all over her pink cardigan. It’s deep and will need sutures, I’m sure, but I’ll live.

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