“Oh, shit!”
I dive sideways, scrambling away to avoid the falling debris. I hear a scream, and look back to see the man positioned at the top of the tower land with a heavy, life-ending thud — his head splitting like a melon as it hits the ground. His gun flies from his hands, landing a few feet in front of me.
Ah, thank you very much!
I wait a second longer, just to appreciate the sight of all that wood falling and crushing the giant prick, and then lunge for the gun. No time to check the mag. I doubt it’s going to be empty — no one here will see that much action. I check the safety and hold it one-handed as I sprint across the yard toward the housing units, yelling as I turn slightly to fire behind me. It’s a fully automatic weapon, so I simply squeeze the trigger and point it in roughly the right direction. I’m not bothered about being accurate — as long as I avoid hitting any of the women — I just want to deter them from firing at me for a few seconds while I get some cover.
Everyone’s too busy standing slack-jawed and braindead to fight back anyway. A couple of well-placed sprays as I’m running and I manage to take out over half the group. In my peripheral vision, I see Mr. Way ducking back inside his tent.
Nowhere to run, asshole.
I reach the housing units and slam my shoulder into the side of one to stop myself. Fighting to control my breathing, I drop to one knee and place two hands on the gun. I take aim and start picking off the stragglers before they get chance to organize themselves. The slightest of touches on the trigger lets off two or three rounds at a time, so I take my shots sparingly, prioritizing the men still up in the watchtowers.
I take out three of them opposite me before the gun clicks empty. I stand and make my way across the front of the units. As I reach the third one along, the door in front of me opens. A man appears, fumbling with his own gun. He looks up, shocked to see me standing there.
I smile. “Hey there.”
Before he can reply, I slam the butt of my empty Vector into his face, shattering his nose. He drops like a stone, his face masked in fresh blood. I leave my gun next to him as I lean down to steal his. Again, I’m assuming it’s a full mag, so I click the safety off and turn to start firing once more.
“Jesus…”
There’s a sea of men walking toward me with their weapons raised. Not firing… just shouting. There must be forty, maybe fifty, of them.
Save the bullets, Adrian. Pick your fights.
I yank open the door of the next unit along and step inside, slamming it shut behind me. I turn and rest against it, catching my breath.
What the…?
There are three men facing me, and they all look… well, terrified, really. They’re all in a state of undress — two have pants on, but bare torsos… the other is standing in his underwear, but with a T-shirt on. Surrounding them, looking equally scared and equally undressed, are well over twenty women. They’re trying to cover themselves, despite all being in their underwear. A couple are whimpering, crying with fear, but most are silent and shocked.
Holy shit.
Okay… think fast.
I snap the weapon up and let off three controlled bursts, hitting each of the three men in their chests. They drop lifelessly to the floor, prompting screams from the women and girls who were accidentally sprayed with their blood.
Whoops!
I step forward. “Okay, everyone, listen up. I’m not here to hurt you, but I’m short on time and even shorter on bullets, so I’ll be as direct as I can. First of all, I need everyone to be quiet, can you do that?”
I place a finger on my lips, and a gradual silence descends.
“Excellent. Right, hands up who can actually understand me.”
Five out of twenty-odd. Hmmm… Could be better, could be worse.
“Okay, the ones with your hands up, pay attention. I’m going to kill Mr. Way and get you all out of here. But I need your help. Can you… y’know… translate for me?”
There’s a loud babble of chatter, which prompts even more in response. I give it a minute for it to go quiet…
“Okay, who can drive?”
I’m getting nothing…
Oh, hang on — three hands have tentatively gone up.
That’s far from ideal, but it’ll have to do.
“Okay, people who can understand me, translate this: I’m going to open this door and start shooting anything that moves. When I do, I want you all to run out of here, single file, and head for the vehicle pool. With me so far?”
I pause while they relay the message. Shock and agreement sound out in equal measure.
“Good. When you get there, I want the three who can drive to get behind the wheel of a 4×4. The rest of you, however many it takes, load a drum of fuel into the back seat. I need two of you to drive over to the corners either side of the entrance. The third, park it outside Way’s tent. Then get out and run as fast you can into the forest, but leave the rear doors open so I can see the fuel drums. Questions?”
That took a few minutes… While I’m sure a lot of it was lost in translation, I think they got the gist.
I take a quick look around the room. It’s sparsely furnished — rows of beds covering the majority of the floor space, and a communal bathroom running almost the width of the back wall.
Where are they…?
I look left.
Bingo!
Three Vectors are leaning against the wall beside the door. I knew those assholes would have put them somewhere. I walk over, take all the mags, and shove them into every spare pocket I have. I step back, face the door, and then glance over my shoulder.
“Everyone ready?”
They huddle together, crying and murmuring among themselves.
I sigh, setting my jaw with determination.
You really do attract some random shit, don’t you, Adrian?
I push the door open and step out. This part is much easier when you don’t have to worry about collateral damage. Everyone’s a target, so I just snap my aim to the next thing I see move and tap the trigger. Propping the door open with my foot, I take out seven guys before I need to change the mag. I reload as the women and girls file out of the unit.
I hope they understood what I asked them to do. It’s a gamble, and it’s not the end of the world if they just run off, but it would be nice to make a statement if I can. I want to show Colonel Sanders and his Order that I don’t need to audition for anything. I’m the best. Period.
The last of them are out, and they’re all heading for the vehicles.
Yes!
I take out a few more men as I dash over to Way’s tent and duck inside. I’m not worried about anyone firing at the women — they’ll be too concerned about me. Besides, despite this whole place looking like amateur hour, I doubt even these guys are stupid enough to shoot the people they sell to make money…
The tent looks empty.
Where the hell is he?
Oh, never mind. Found him. He’s cowering underneath one of the tables like a little bitch! I walk over to it and drag it out of the way one-handed.
He’s sitting on the floor, hugging his knees, looking up at me with wide eyes. “P-please! Leave me alone! Don’t kill me!”
I reach down and hoist him to his feet, keeping my gun trained on him and listening for any movement behind me. “Get up, you sack of shit.” I grab his collar and march him over to the seating in the far corner. I shove him into a chair and point my gun at his chest. “You sell women… young women… to the highest bidder, and you live off the profits of other people’s suffering. You know what? Even if I hadn’t been ordered to, I’m pretty sure I’d have wanted to kill you anyway, now I know what a huge waste of sperm you really are.”