“He has killed more than half our men alone. We are just two.”
I pick up a stone from beside me and throw it inward. The men stop and walk slowly toward the side where I tossed it. As their backs come into my view, I grab both guns, aim at their heads, and shoot. They fall to the ground with loud thuds. I crawl forward, change my position, and move to the other side. Soon after, two more men who were close reach my position, I take shots at them as well.
Then the sound of gunfire starts coming from the roadside.
Dad is here.
I rest my back against the tree.
“Mr. Bennett!” my men shout. I push up, holding the tree for support.
“Zloban!” Dad’s voice cuts through, then Leo’s.
My hands are shaking as I remove the silencer from my gun. I fire into the air. The shouting stops. I fire again and again until I lose the strength to keep standing, then I fall.
Matleon
There are bodies everywhere. The precise bullet holes in their heads tell the story of who killed them. The remaining attackers are now down, our men finished them off. There were at least fifty, he killed more than thirty. But where is he?
I shout his name. “Zloban!”
Then we hear a single gunshot. Everyone goes silent. Another shot. I look at Uncle, and we start moving toward the direction of the sound. Another shot rings out from the same area. We pick up the pace, and when we get there, we find him lying on the ground, unconscious. We move fast and lift him up. The rain washes the mud away, and the blood flowing from his body becomes visible. He has been shot.
“Put him on my back,” I tell Uncle.
He and the men beside us help move him onto my back. I hold him tight and start running toward the road. His chest rises and falls very slowly against my back.
“If you die, I will kill your dove. So think twice before dying.”
We reach the roadside. My men open the car doors and help lay him inside. I close the door and sit behind the wheel. Uncle takes the passenger seat.
“Drive fast.”
I engage the gear and accelerate to 150 km/hr.
We reach the hospital in five minutes. The doctors have already been informed about the situation. A stretcher is waiting at the entrance. I help the staff move him onto it.
We follow the stretcher until he is secured behind the doors of the operating room. Uncle and I sit in front of the closed doors.
“I asked him to leave the house,” Uncle says, his voice filled with guilt and sadness.
“He will be fine. He is not that easy to kill.” Although I speak confidently, my own hands are shaking. He has been shot in three places, and blood is still flowing from each wound.
I clasp my hands together, trying to stop them from trembling.
After a long time, a nurse comes out. We both stand as she approaches.
“The patient’s condition is very critical,” she says. “He has lost a lot of blood, and the bullets have caused hugedamage. We are trying our best, and there is a chance of survival, but nothing can be said for certain right now.”
I clench my fists at my sides. Her words echo in my mind, word after word.
She goes back inside after delivering the message.
I look at Uncle. “I have something important to do. I’ll be back in a few hours.”
I’m not letting the motherfucker who did this to my brother sleep in peace.
After leaving the hospital I drive toward Saint Stone to prepare for destroying everything Charlie Flisher owns, and him. He is the son of Canadian king Declan Flisher. He wants revenge for his father’s death at Zo’s hands years ago, and for the way his family was forced to flee overnight when we seized control of their country. He was in Ireland all these years, ruling there. Here his base is in L.A. He wasn’t on our radar at first, and in the time we weren’t watching him he built up a lot of power.
