Die Trying
wasn’t hearing him. Like he was deaf. Reacher was hit with a clang of fear. If the guy wasn’t going to listen to him, there was nothing he could do. He shook his chain. It rattled loudly through the silence of the night. It had no effect. The guy was just ignoring him.
“You come near me, I’ll kill you,” Holly said again.
Her leg was slowing her down. She was trapped in an awkward struggle to stand up. The driver darted into her stall. Raised his foot and stamped it down on her knee. She screamed in agony and collapsed and curled into a ball.
“You do what I tell you, bitch,” the driver said. “Exactly what I tell you, or you’ll never walk again.”
Holly’s scream died into a sob. The driver pulled his foot back and carefully kicked her knee like he was aiming for a field goal right at the end of the last quarter. She screamed again.
“You’re a dead man,” Reacher yelled.
The driver turned around and faced him. Smiled a wide smile.
“You keep your mouth tight shut,” he said. “One more squeak out of you, it’ll be harder on the bitch, OK?”
The ends of his belt were hanging down. He balled his fists and propped them on his hips. His big vivid face was glowing. His hair was bushed up like he’d just washed it and combed it back. He turned his head and spoke to Holly over his shoulder.
“You wearing anything under that suit?” he asked her.
Holly didn’t speak. Silence in the barn. The guy turned to face her. Reacher saw her tracking his movements.
“I asked you a question, bitch,” he said. “You want another kick?”
She didn’t reply. She was breathing hard. Fighting the pain. The driver unzipped his pants. The sound of the zip was loud. It fought with the rasping of three people breathing hard.
“You see this?” he asked. “You know what this is?”
“Sort of,” Holly muttered. “It looks a little like a penis, only smaller.”
He stared at her, blankly. Then he bellowed in rage and rushed into her stall, swinging his foot. Holly dodged away. His short wide leg swung and connected with nothing. He staggered off balance. Holly’s eyes narrowed in a gleam of triumph. She dodged back and smashed her elbow into his stomach. She did it right. Used his own momentum against him, used all her weight like she wanted to punch his spine right out through his back. Caught him with a solid blow. The guy gasped and spun away.
Reacher whooped in admiration. And relief. He thought: couldn’t have done it better myself, kid. The guy was heaving. Reacher saw his face, crumpled in pain. Holly was snarling in triumph. She scrambled on one knee after him. Going for his groin. Reacher willed her on. She launched herself at him. The guy turned and took it on the thigh. Holly had planned for that. It left his throat open to her elbow. Reacher saw it. Holly saw it. She lined it up. The killing blow. A vicious arcing curve. It was going to rip his head off. She swung it in. Then her chain snapped tight and stopped her short. It clanked hard against the iron ring and jerked her backward.
Reacher’s grin froze on his face. The guy staggered out of range. Stooped and panted and caught his breath. Then he straightened up and hitched his belt higher. Holly faced him, one-handed. Her chain was tight against the wall, vibrating with the tension she had on it.
“I like a fighter,” the guy gasped. “Makes it more interesting for me. But make sure you save yourself some energy for later. I don’t want you just lying there.”
Holly glared at him, breathing hard. Crackling with aggression. But she was one-handed. The guy stepped in again and she swung a stinging punch. Fast and low. He crowded left and blocked it. She couldn’t deliver the follow-up. Her other arm was pinned back. He raised his foot and kicked for her stomach. She arched around it. He kicked out again and stumbled straight into an elbow, hard against his ear. It was the wrong elbow, with no force behind it because of her impossible position. A poor blow. It left her off balance. The driver stepped close and kicked her in the gut. She went down. He kicked out again and caught her knee. Reacher heard it crunch. She screamed in agony. Collapsed on the mattress. The driver breathed fast and stood there.
“I asked you a damn question,” he said.
Holly was deathly white and trembling. She was writhing around on the mattress, one arm pinned behind her, gasping with the pain. Reacher saw her face, flashing through the
Weitere Kostenlose Bücher