Cole(64)

The door opened slowly with a squeak, and I saw the silhouettes of two men coming inside. I lowered myself and pressed against the stall’s door. The horses started neighing as the men approached, and a few began kicking at their stall doors. They could feel the tension in the air. My horse stepped from side to side, but he never pawed at the door. He wouldn’t hurt me, but his eyes were growing wild in the moonlight, and he began to shake his head.

“Every fucking stall has a horse. What are we supposed to do with that? Search each one?” grumbled the guy closest to me.

“I don’t know,” his companion replied. “I guess so. Markay and Gus are going to sweep upstairs. They’re waiting for our signal that this level is clear.”

They would come from the side door, then head upstairs.

I couldn’t wait.

The men turned on flashlights and shined them in the stalls. They were making quick work, not bothering to go inside. I watched as they kept coming, clearing the stalls next to me, and then pointing their lights at my horse. They lit him up, and he reared back from being blinded. I held my breath. Right that second, the horse was more dangerous to me than the men. They passed their flashlights over the back corners of the stall. The gelding moved toward them, and toward me, but they turned their flashlights to the stall behind them.

It was time.

I slipped over the stall’s door and dropped to the floor. I came up behind them and pulled a knife out of my pocket, keeping it tucked against the palm of my hand.

The two men were almost to the middle of the row of stalls.

I slipped up behind one, then reached around and slashed his throat. His blood sprayed over me, and before his companion could react, I grabbed his shoulder and did the same to him. Both men fell to the ground. They couldn’t speak, and they’d be dead within minutes.

“Hey! Bannon? Carl? You guys okay?” a voice called from the far end of the barn.

One of these assholes was named Carl. Ironic. I grabbed their flashlights and held them apart. “We’re good,” I yelled back, making my voice deeper to match what I’d heard earlier. “One of the horses spooked us.”

There was silence for a second. Then the guy hollered again, “Yeah, okay. Check every stall. Keep going.”

The other two flashlights were coming toward me. I had to get behind them, take them down the same way. I knew the final two would be coming through the side doors at any moment, but so far the doors were still closed. They weren’t locked. I’d closed them before taking Addison upstairs, but meant to come back down and lock everything up for the night.

Turning the flashlights off, I locked both doors, darting from side to side.

“Hey!” The other two guys came running.

I flattened against one of the stalls and waited. They rushed past and separated, going to the doors. The closest one pushed at the door. “Fuck! Did he go this way?”

I moved quickly, slicing his throat in the dark, too.

The other guy swung around, and his flashlight blinded me. “Stay there, you fucker!”

I moved so the stairs were between us.

“I said STOP!” he bellowed.

I waited now. He’d need backup, whether that meant calling for his friends or unlocking the doors. I stared at his feet, memorizing where he was until I heard him fumbling around. Then I launched myself at him. He had a gun trained on me, but his mind wasn’t focused on pulling the trigger. I used that against him, soaring around the stairs. He saw me go left and his gun moved that way, but I ducked to the floor. The flashlight couldn’t keep up with me, and I kicked at him. He pulled the trigger and the bullet hit the floor next to me, but he was down. I grappled with him for the gun, kicking at his face.

The doors were rattling now. The other men shoved against them, trying to get in.

“Thirty seconds…” I could hear Carter’s voice in my head. I had thirty seconds before they remembered the other two entrances were unlocked and open. Then they’d act, and be on me.

The guy fighting me was stronger than I’d thought, so I flipped over, putting my knees on either side of his head. His gun was up, but I had the advantage now. I slammed his hand on the ground, and it opened with the impact. Grabbing the gun, I shot him in the face.

He was dead instantly. I rolled off of him and scooted back against the stalls so I was partially blocked. The doors were quiet now. They’d quieted as soon as they heard their friend die. My heart pounded, but I stilled my breathing.

They’d have to come all the way to the middle stairs to see me, but that was my only opening. They had the advantage. I had to think of something. As I waited, I pulled my second gun out. I had one gun in each hand now. They’d have to find me.