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(continued)

Pacific Ocean, 201 miles off the Oregon coast

May 12th, 2019

I really don’t want to go toe to toe with this kid, I saw him put his fingers into the flesh of one of the mercs I was with and it wasn’t pretty. The kid actually cracked a bone inside the guy after digging around for it, I heard that sucker go and it still haunts me at this moment. But I can’t run quick enough even with the damage the kid has incurred and already he’s eyeing me like he’d love to see what my heart tastes like while it’s still beating. At the very least he’s bleeding and it’s starting to take something of a toll on him as I can see.

But that’s not entirely reassuring as slowing him down just a little is like saying that an animal is less dangerous when it’s injured. How many of us know the truth about that one?

I’m not ready to die here, but I’ve been cornered at this point and fighting my way out isn’t as possible as I’d like it to be. But perhaps I can make a way without the kid being any the wiser. And maybe there’s a way I’ll get out of this alive, and in one piece.

The kid’s advancing on me slowly, no doubt wondering if I’ve got anything up my sleeve, so to speak. My pistol is still out, but I don’t have much faith that I’ll be able to raise it and squeeze off more than one shot before he’s on me. Nope, what I’m planning is a lot more simple, but it might have the advantage of being a surprise. So far it hasn’t really been tried thanks to the information we got when coming out this way. The kid was not to be approached, he wasn’t to be released, and he certainly wasn’t to be taken lightly. But some numbnut in my squad decided to play it cute and taunt the damned kid and this is the result so far.

Sounds more and more like a B horror movie right? Well let me tell you, even B movies can get down and dirty sometimes, and it’s about to go there.

“You want it?” I ask the kid, my eyes wide and my pistol still pointed down. The kid looks at me funny then, as though he’s not sure what I just said, or why.

“That’s right you little bastard,” I breathe, “Bring on the pain.”

I beckon him forward, and as he recognizes what I’m doing I shift my pistol just enough that the barrel isn’t really aimed at anywhere in particular. But as he rushes me I get off a shot, and I can only hope the one I get is good enough.

(to be continued)

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