enemies,” said the fat man.
“Look at her, Ox,” said the skinny man, obviously using the other man’s nickname. “She’s a pretty little thing.”
“Tasty,” the fat man said, his voice dripping with heinous intent.
Lexi was moving before either man realized it. She spun back toward the fat man, who raised a ham-like fist, but the Wangorian dagger split open his nasty shirt and scored a vicious cut across his pasty white belly. The man bellowed in pain, staggering back, but Lexi was already moving toward the other man. Everything happened in a matter of seconds, but as Lexi moved forward she realized that the curve of her new weapon made it necessary to turn her wrist inward so that the blade could have its full effect. Silently she chastised herself for not spilling the fat man’s guts. It was a mistake she didn’t intend to make again.
The skinny man had a rusty knife of his own, and was bobbing toward her. Lexi couldn’t tell if the man had some type of physical problem, or if he was just excited by the fight. She moved into his range, then just as quickly jumped back, avoiding the inevitable swipe of the rusty blade. The skinny man was fast, but predictable. Lexi swung her own blade, narrowly missing the man’s arm, then let her momentum carry her forward in a spin. The men had seen the new dagger she’d just stolen, but they hadn’t seen the little blade she always carried. It was a thin knife that fit snug in her belt. She had drawn it with her left hand the moment she spun into action; now she slammed the small blade into the man’s groin. He screamed and pulled away, but the damage was done. The little knife wouldn’t stop a bigger blade, and in most areas of the body could do little more than make a man angry, but in the right spots it was deadly.
Lexi saw the man’s blood spurt out of the wound, like a black fountain. Normally she would have run at that point, but the fat man was still alive. Living on her own as she had for most of her life, Lexi knew that leaving an enemy behind meant living in fear. The fat man was hurt, but not out of the fight. He would heal and his anger for her would fester. She was adept at getting out of trouble because people constantly underestimated her, but an enemy who set a trap for her could easily get the upper hand. The fat man was certainly stronger than she was, if he got his hands on her, she would be helpless.
She turned back to the fat man who was lumbering forward, one hand on his stomach, the other holding a club. Lexi moved backward, waiting for her chance to strike. It wasn’t difficult to pretend she was terrified. The fat man’s face was contorted with rage and she was certain he intended to bash her brains out with his club.
She passed a stack of empty wooden crates and pulled them down between herself and the fat man. He charged through them as if they were nothing but weeds to be trampled. She stepped into the entrance of a building with a low awning that was made of wood. The fat man swung the club in an overhead blow, but it caught on the awning. Lexi dashed forward, swinging her knife, but the fat man backhanded her with his free hand, the knuckles smashing across her cheekbone and eye, opening a nasty gash that was bleeding freely. She went sprawling across the ground, which was muddy. She rolled onto her feet just in time to see the fat man lumbering toward her once again. This time he had the club in both hands above his head. Lexi waited as long as she dared before rolling to the side. The fat man slammed the club down where she’d been, and was slower standing back up straight than Lexi was. She stabbed the dagger into the man’s thigh.
The fat man grunted, looking down at the knife handle protruding from his leg. Lexi let the weapon go and moved away from the man. He turned and staggered after her, but the dagger slowed him considerably. The temptation to run was almost too much for her. She was used to striking first and ending
“Look at her, Ox,” said the skinny man, obviously using the other man’s nickname. “She’s a pretty little thing.”
“Tasty,” the fat man said, his voice dripping with heinous intent.
Lexi was moving before either man realized it. She spun back toward the fat man, who raised a ham-like fist, but the Wangorian dagger split open his nasty shirt and scored a vicious cut across his pasty white belly. The man bellowed in pain, staggering back, but Lexi was already moving toward the other man. Everything happened in a matter of seconds, but as Lexi moved forward she realized that the curve of her new weapon made it necessary to turn her wrist inward so that the blade could have its full effect. Silently she chastised herself for not spilling the fat man’s guts. It was a mistake she didn’t intend to make again.
The skinny man had a rusty knife of his own, and was bobbing toward her. Lexi couldn’t tell if the man had some type of physical problem, or if he was just excited by the fight. She moved into his range, then just as quickly jumped back, avoiding the inevitable swipe of the rusty blade. The skinny man was fast, but predictable. Lexi swung her own blade, narrowly missing the man’s arm, then let her momentum carry her forward in a spin. The men had seen the new dagger she’d just stolen, but they hadn’t seen the little blade she always carried. It was a thin knife that fit snug in her belt. She had drawn it with her left hand the moment she spun into action; now she slammed the small blade into the man’s groin. He screamed and pulled away, but the damage was done. The little knife wouldn’t stop a bigger blade, and in most areas of the body could do little more than make a man angry, but in the right spots it was deadly.
Lexi saw the man’s blood spurt out of the wound, like a black fountain. Normally she would have run at that point, but the fat man was still alive. Living on her own as she had for most of her life, Lexi knew that leaving an enemy behind meant living in fear. The fat man was hurt, but not out of the fight. He would heal and his anger for her would fester. She was adept at getting out of trouble because people constantly underestimated her, but an enemy who set a trap for her could easily get the upper hand. The fat man was certainly stronger than she was, if he got his hands on her, she would be helpless.
She turned back to the fat man who was lumbering forward, one hand on his stomach, the other holding a club. Lexi moved backward, waiting for her chance to strike. It wasn’t difficult to pretend she was terrified. The fat man’s face was contorted with rage and she was certain he intended to bash her brains out with his club.
She passed a stack of empty wooden crates and pulled them down between herself and the fat man. He charged through them as if they were nothing but weeds to be trampled. She stepped into the entrance of a building with a low awning that was made of wood. The fat man swung the club in an overhead blow, but it caught on the awning. Lexi dashed forward, swinging her knife, but the fat man backhanded her with his free hand, the knuckles smashing across her cheekbone and eye, opening a nasty gash that was bleeding freely. She went sprawling across the ground, which was muddy. She rolled onto her feet just in time to see the fat man lumbering toward her once again. This time he had the club in both hands above his head. Lexi waited as long as she dared before rolling to the side. The fat man slammed the club down where she’d been, and was slower standing back up straight than Lexi was. She stabbed the dagger into the man’s thigh.
The fat man grunted, looking down at the knife handle protruding from his leg. Lexi let the weapon go and moved away from the man. He turned and staggered after her, but the dagger slowed him considerably. The temptation to run was almost too much for her. She was used to striking first and ending
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