James Axler – Way of the Wolf

She took solace in the fact that she was six inches closer to her goal. Then she pushed the chair up again and continued to move forward. She wasn’t going to just sit there and be used against her friends.

Chapter Fourteen

Ryan spotted the deputy across the street from the gun shop long before the man knew the one-eyed warrior was there. He knew from the man’s stance that he was watching the gun shop, and that he’d gotten bored with it. He also saw moonlight kiss the deputy’s star on his chest.

Ryan stayed in the shadows as he turned the corner. He walked casually, as if he were a man with another place to get to and in no real hurry to get there. It fit in with the handful of other men he’d seen on the streets.

The deputy gave him a quick scan, then turned his attention back to the front of the gun shop. He kept his hands folded across his chest.

While doing a recce around the building, Ryan found the second man working backup. The second deputy sat high on a balcony over the general store, surveying the street from a folding canvas chair. The station was a good one for watching over the man at street level, but it left the man on the balcony vulnerable.

Ryan circled the building and found a plastic drainpipe bolted to the wall beside the balcony, leading down into a rain barrel that was half-full. Though the pipe wouldn’t hold his weight, the rain barrel did put him within reaching distance of the balcony.

He shed the Steyr, knowing it would be too hard to move while carrying the big weapon, then thumbed the restraining strap over the SIG-Sauer. He stepped onto the porch quietly, then moved up onto the rain barrel. Straightening himself and maintaining his balance, he caught the support struts of the balcony.

Gently Ryan eased his weight from the rain barrel to the balcony struts. He knew the deputy was facing away from him, so all he had to do was remain silent. Holding all his weight on one arm while he moved the other higher was a strain, but he managed it.

He drew his head up slowly, maintaining the illusion of the shadows. He peered between the bars and saw the deputy still facing away from him. Chilling the man was optional; keeping him from yelling a warning wasn’t.

He pulled himself up over the edge of the railing and onto the balcony. The deputy never heard him coming. Ryan reached for the man’s head, gripped it firmly, then twisted hard before the man could cry out or start to struggle.

The harsh crack signaled the separation of the man’s skull from his spine. Flatulence ripped through the man’s pants as his bowels released.

Ryan left the corpse where it lay in the chair and climbed back to the ground. In a matter of less than a handful of minutes, he’d recovered the Steyr and crept up on the other deputy.

With the man out in the open the way he was, Ryan had no choice but to take him quick. The one-eyed warrior bolted around the corner and came at the deputy at a good stride.

The deputy came around to face Ryan, uncertainty in his movements. He was young, used to handling an area that didn’t have much rebellion in it. Too much power took the edge off a man. “Can I help you?” he asked.

Ryan said, “Sure,” then kicked the younger man in the crotch. The deputy doubled over, grabbing for his groin. Ryan swept the Steyr around to buttstroke the deputy, breaking the back of the man’s head. He died in a single breath.

Crossing the street, Ryan knocked on the door to the darkened gun shop.

“What do you want?” a young man’s voice asked, so quiet it didn’t drift more than a few feet.

“To see J. B. Dix,” Ryan replied. “And make it bastard quick. I’ve already chilled two men coming this far. One of them gets discovered, we’re going to be up to our ears in Kirkland’s sec teams.”

“I’ll be back.”