"Absolutely. Thank you." Leif took a sip.
Woody muttered something about "annoying motherfuckers" before he grabbed another mug and started to make a third coffee for himself. This one had a picture of a rooster on the side and the words 'world's biggest cock.' What other interesting crockery did they have in there?
“So, you've been practicing strangling. Anything else?" Leif asked.
I told him about the gun lesson we'd had before that. He listened with interest, nodding every so often and making the right noises.
"It sounds like Woody knows what he's doing," Leif said with only a hint of teasing. He wanted to get a rise out of the other man, but not disparage his skills. Not when there'd be times all of our lives depended on it.
"We were just about to practice with knives." Woody leaned against the countertop, his hands around his coffee almost protectively, as though he expected Leif to try to take that one as well.
"Your timing is perfect," Woody added, giving Leif a meaningful look over the rim of the cup and taking a sip.
"Because I'm so good with knives? I know you're not suggesting practicing on me," Leif said.
"Why not?" Woody asked. "How else is she going to know how it feels to slide a knife between someone's ribs unless she tries it?"
"I'm not going to slid a knife between Leif's ribs," I said firmly. Not that anyone thought for a minute I would.
"Woody has a point,” Leif said. "You should know how it feels so you don't hesitate, but I'm not going to let you practice on me. We'll get in a side of beef. You can practice on that."
"I have something better in mind," Woody said. He jerked his head toward a door to the back of the room. One I'd noticed, but didn't know where it led.
"You think she's up to that?" Leif asked.
"There's only one way to find out," Woody said, eyeing me speculatively.
"Why do I get the feeling I'm not going to like this?" I asked. "What's in there? Please don't tell me you keep bad guys locked away in case you need to practice on them."
I wish that sounded implausible, but it didn't. I could totally imagine my three men locking assholes and thugs away, until they needed to hone their skills. Or for shits and giggles.
"Not alive bad guys," Leif said. "Remember those three attackers from such shit shows as last night?"
"I have a vague recollection of being traumatized after they blew the door in and died outside in a pool of blood." As if I could forget any of it. The whole scenario was nightmare fuel.
Except… part of me was starting to get used to it. Blood, death, violence. What did that say about me?
I decided it said I was good at adjusting to new situations, and I'd do best to leave it at that. Otherwise, it might say I was unhinged as fuck. I wasn't ready to accept that yet. Give it another attack, kidnapping, or two.
"You're telling me the cleanup crew brought their bodies down here so you could store them for… What?" I asked.
Leif glanced down at his shoes.
I closed my eyes and shook my head.
"Right. Okay. Right." I shouldn't have asked.
He stepped over to me, cupped my cheek and held my gaze. "If we didn't kill them, they would have killed us," he remindedme. "Anything we do to them here? They're already dead, we can't make them any deader. Believe me, if we could, we would. What are you going to do if you have a knife in your hand and the only way out is to use it on someone else? You don't know where to use it, how much pressure to use before it actually works. It's like cutting meat but at the same time it's not."
"Because it's a person," I said.
"Yes, because it's a person, and because we know how to slice chicken breast, or bacon, or a piece of steak. The average person doesn't know where to start slicing a human." Did he have to sound like he enjoyed it so much?
I opened my eyes a crack.
"You don't have to do this," he said. "If your life was threatened, you'd do whatever you have to do, but if you're prepared, if you know exactly what's necessary, it'll make it easier." It sounded as though he was speaking from experience. Yeah, okay, of course he was.
I glanced over at Woody. "Is this where you tell me I should run before a situation gets to the point where I'm using the point on someone?" Meaning the pointy end of a knife.
