50
- 50 -
Paskia had killed before, but that was different. She’d attacked the man because she needed to survive. She’d struck out with a blade, felt it enter the man’s body. She’d been so close to him.
But now, she held a g*n. She focused on the guard by the wrecked car, and her finger curled around the trigger. All it required was a squeeze, and she could end his life.
If she had the strength of will to tighten her finger.
The guard dropped his raised hand.
A shout from Cali, something about an attack. Soft cracks that were surely too quiet to be gunfire, and rock splinters showered down on Paskia. Sounds of movement from behind, from Cali and Jerone. Yelling, swearing.
And the guard by the car fired.
The barrel of his g*n flashed, and Paskia ducked. The wall by her head vibrated
