Read Online Well Fed - 05 by Keith C. Blackmore - Free Book Online
Authors: Keith C. Blackmore
Ads: Link
click followed.
A sudden, frightening hiss split the air, and something punched Gus hard in the center of his back, squashing him against the wood. The force stunned and startled him. He fell and rolled over just as a second hiss bounced his helmeted head off the marble. Gus groaned and pushed himself into a sitting position, looking around as he did so.
Jesus Christ .
Walking toward the floor pit and dressed like a predator from the apocalypse was… an archer. The archer wore a Korean mask depicting an old man grinning hugely, his right eye looking down an arrow nocked to an archaic but still effective bow. Snow-white fatigues, camouflage for winter hunting, took on a blue tone under the lights.
Gus’s face contorted in horrified wonder.
Just as the archer released.
The missile hissed through the corridor like a black bolt of lightning and nailed Gus’s sternum, bucking him against the wall—a perfect shot any other time, ruined by the heavy folds of his Nomex gear. It wasn’t bulletproof—hell, as far as Gus knew, it couldn’t stop a hunting arrow either.
But it had. Cold.
However, Gus’s sternum felt as if it had just been stomped on by a sumo. He winced, holding a hand to his chest. It wouldn’t surprise him if the impact had fractured bone.
The Korean Mask peeked up from the bow, enormous grin blazing in the blue light. He smoothly extracted another arrow, notched the bow, and drew back until his fingers touched a wooden cheek.
Gus lurched into motion, feet finding traction and propelling him forward just as a shrieking arrow twanged off his left thigh, dropping him to a knee with a yelp. The meat of his leg felt as if it had just been tenderized by a sledgehammer.
“You fucker !”
The archer stoically walked forward, nocking a new arrow. Gus could see the white plumage of several more missiles over the man’s shoulder, deadly to any other guest, but thank the Lord above for quality-made fire gear. Gus stumbled out of the way just as another arrow split the air and imbedded itself with a whuk into the doorframe, splintering it and missing Gus’s ass cheek by a few fingers.
Shaking off the effects of the arrows, Gus hobbled at best possible speed down the trashed hallway, weaving from side to side to present the hardest target possible.
SssssssTT!
An arrow slugged him in his left shoulder, twisting him off his feet and sending him crashing through a doorless entry. The clatter of the missile falling to the floor echoed through the hall, and Gus caught that mournful scream again as he stumbled toward a sofa set. He flipped over it, bouncing off soft cushions and onto a plush rug. Metallic shutters blanketed and protected a glass wall spanning the width of the room. Light reflected in its surface. Judging by the rugs, sofas, and the pair of massive white brick fireplaces adorning the north and south walls, Gus figured he was in a living room as he slammed himself against the edge of the opening.
“Who are you, huh?” he yelled, bringing up his right hand, frankly amazed he still had a hold of his bat.
No reply.
He glanced up, seeing the handrails and a walkway of the second floor, jutting out twelve feet above him and leading back into the area above the hall he’d just come from. Hope flared, but how could he get up there? With the overhang, there was no way he could climb over the fireplaces. Grunting in discomfort and still feeling the numbing effects of being struck by arrows, Gus lumbered back to the entrance and discovered the door actually slid across on rollers. Grabbing the handles, he pushed with everything he had, intending to seal the living room off like a bright vault.
The Korean Mask filled the closing crack, appearing in the last second just as it shut with a clap of wood. Gus straightened with a grunt. There was a simple eye hook on the frame, and he flipped it into place, locking the door just as the man on the other side attempted to open it.
Gus smirked in false
A sudden, frightening hiss split the air, and something punched Gus hard in the center of his back, squashing him against the wood. The force stunned and startled him. He fell and rolled over just as a second hiss bounced his helmeted head off the marble. Gus groaned and pushed himself into a sitting position, looking around as he did so.
Jesus Christ .
Walking toward the floor pit and dressed like a predator from the apocalypse was… an archer. The archer wore a Korean mask depicting an old man grinning hugely, his right eye looking down an arrow nocked to an archaic but still effective bow. Snow-white fatigues, camouflage for winter hunting, took on a blue tone under the lights.
Gus’s face contorted in horrified wonder.
Just as the archer released.
The missile hissed through the corridor like a black bolt of lightning and nailed Gus’s sternum, bucking him against the wall—a perfect shot any other time, ruined by the heavy folds of his Nomex gear. It wasn’t bulletproof—hell, as far as Gus knew, it couldn’t stop a hunting arrow either.
But it had. Cold.
However, Gus’s sternum felt as if it had just been stomped on by a sumo. He winced, holding a hand to his chest. It wouldn’t surprise him if the impact had fractured bone.
The Korean Mask peeked up from the bow, enormous grin blazing in the blue light. He smoothly extracted another arrow, notched the bow, and drew back until his fingers touched a wooden cheek.
Gus lurched into motion, feet finding traction and propelling him forward just as a shrieking arrow twanged off his left thigh, dropping him to a knee with a yelp. The meat of his leg felt as if it had just been tenderized by a sledgehammer.
“You fucker !”
The archer stoically walked forward, nocking a new arrow. Gus could see the white plumage of several more missiles over the man’s shoulder, deadly to any other guest, but thank the Lord above for quality-made fire gear. Gus stumbled out of the way just as another arrow split the air and imbedded itself with a whuk into the doorframe, splintering it and missing Gus’s ass cheek by a few fingers.
Shaking off the effects of the arrows, Gus hobbled at best possible speed down the trashed hallway, weaving from side to side to present the hardest target possible.
SssssssTT!
An arrow slugged him in his left shoulder, twisting him off his feet and sending him crashing through a doorless entry. The clatter of the missile falling to the floor echoed through the hall, and Gus caught that mournful scream again as he stumbled toward a sofa set. He flipped over it, bouncing off soft cushions and onto a plush rug. Metallic shutters blanketed and protected a glass wall spanning the width of the room. Light reflected in its surface. Judging by the rugs, sofas, and the pair of massive white brick fireplaces adorning the north and south walls, Gus figured he was in a living room as he slammed himself against the edge of the opening.
“Who are you, huh?” he yelled, bringing up his right hand, frankly amazed he still had a hold of his bat.
No reply.
He glanced up, seeing the handrails and a walkway of the second floor, jutting out twelve feet above him and leading back into the area above the hall he’d just come from. Hope flared, but how could he get up there? With the overhang, there was no way he could climb over the fireplaces. Grunting in discomfort and still feeling the numbing effects of being struck by arrows, Gus lumbered back to the entrance and discovered the door actually slid across on rollers. Grabbing the handles, he pushed with everything he had, intending to seal the living room off like a bright vault.
The Korean Mask filled the closing crack, appearing in the last second just as it shut with a clap of wood. Gus straightened with a grunt. There was a simple eye hook on the frame, and he flipped it into place, locking the door just as the man on the other side attempted to open it.
Gus smirked in false
Similar Books
