Tag Archives: the Executioner

The Executioner: Part 9

She kicked up a lot of sand when her feet left the ground, but I didn’t pay much attention to it. I was too busy watching where she’d land.

That would likely be low on any list of “Smart Things to Do When You’re Being Chased.”

Here’s why: If I would have run, I’d have likely made it partway across the street, possibly all the way across, and into the forest.

As it was, she landed within arm’s reach of me. Continue reading The Executioner: Part 9

The Executioner: Part 8

The door shattered.

I stumbled, and nearly fell as I dropped to the sand behind the house. Between my rush to leave and the stealth suit’s additional strength, I’d overshot the steps.

I nearly hit the grill of the white, Ford Bronco parked in the driveway. Dodging it, I twisted, and turned left into sand and knee-high, dune grass. Continue reading The Executioner: Part 8

The Executioner: Part 7

Mom’s arms were on the other side of the chair from where Rachel and I stood, but if she were hoping to get away, those ropes had to go next.

Glancing near the legs of her chair told me no more ropes lay on the far side.

I thought she might be waiting for a better chance, but then I realized that this was it. ¬†For the first time since I’d arrived, no one held a gun to her head. Continue reading The Executioner: Part 7

The Executioner: Part 6

Looking like Gunther had in every picture I’d ever seen of him–tall, brushcut, and muscular, I didn’t see why Ray would look forward to his appearance.

As Haley stepped through the door, Ray said something, his voice low, and intense.

The white circle that had been painted on the floor flared, making everything outside the circle a shade lighter. Simultaneously, the walls of the room turned reddish, including the open doorway behind Haley. Continue reading The Executioner: Part 6

The Executioner: Part 5

Ray kept the gun pointed at my mom, but acted as if we were making small talk at the Christmas party.

“So you know I’ve done jobs for the Chicago Outfit, right? I got a job to kill Night Wolf a few years back. Night Wolf had been retired for years by then, and the client was old, so I took it because it sounded like easy money. If he was still alive, he had to be in his 80’s.
Continue reading The Executioner: Part 5

Targets: Part 18

There weren’t any windows in the room, so when the lights went out, it didn’t just become a little darker in the room, it became completely black.

Well, completely black except for the line of light at the bottom of the door.

“Don’t move,” Ray said, and something clicked, followed by a frustrated sigh.

Then, I heard a rustling noise. I guessed it might be Ray or Allen’s gun being pulled from its holster. Continue reading Targets: Part 18

Targets: Part 17

Allen opened the door, and said, “Kerri, please come in.”

If you follow comics, you’ll get the impression that all women with superpowers are long-legged, wasp-waisted, supermodel types with massive–

Never mind.

None of the girls on our team (or any of the grown-up women I’d met)¬†looked like that, so it wasn’t much of a surprise that their telepath didn’t either. Continue reading Targets: Part 17

Targets: Part 16

The Syndicate L representative walked through the door only moments later.

If Ray had worn his khakis and button down shirt as some kind of office camouflage, the Syndicate L rep went one step further.

Middle aged with a tinge of gray in his brown hair, the guy wore a light brown suit coat over a black shirt. I thought I saw a bulge under his left arm, but couldn’t be sure.

It had to be a gun though. Continue reading Targets: Part 16