Lucifer's Assassin

Chapter 3

"Want me to leave these here?" the soldier who'd driven the stairs over to the plane asked in a murmur.

I nodded and then made up some sign language to signal that he was to hurry back to the line of soldiers that I was really starting to miss. I might know how to kick ass and kill people, but I got scared every time. It was what kept you sharp and fighting. You always fought harder if you had something to loose and boy did I have something to lose back at my parents' house. A little boy called Daniel.

When the soldier was behind the line I began to silently ascend the stairs after looking around. SAS was no longer at the window. My heart pounded with every step I took upwards and towards the plane door. There were lots of places he could ambush me from and I knew that he knew that this was the best chance of killing me without too much fuss. The easiest time to kill someone was when they were entering your space.

My palms were sweaty and so was the spot right between my shoulder blades. It normally took a lot longer than this for me to go clammy. I re-adjusted the grip on the pistol wishing to god I had a machine gun, and took another step.

A light flashed in my eyes. I let off a shot instantly, too blinded by it to see where the shot went exactly. I also flattened myself on the steps as I batted the night vision goggles up so that I could see. There was no one in the door way.

I went the rest of the way up and had to put the goggles back on so that I could see inside the plane. The guy in the doorway was now dead or as good as looking at the amount of blood that was on the floor. I carefully stepped over him and turned my gun to the left as I peered that way. The cockpit door was closed. I tried opening it but got nowhere. I looked right and found the curtains to the first set of chairs closed. The bastard was a clever one. It was a sure way to know when I went into the main space.

I figured there was nothing for it but to run. I took a moment to prepare, but was pulled from behind. The hand grabbed my ankle in a grip too tight to be completely human. I shot it and was rewarded with an animal howl. To my surprise it wasn't the Revenant I was after, but the guy I'd figured was dead. I shot him again, the dead nothingness behind the eyes a sure sign he wasn't entirely human anymore. I got him in the head. He died instantly, but the grip on my leg didn't loosen any.

It took a few very long moments to prize the fingers off me, and even then it felt like I was still being held. Maybe it was because the grip had been so tight, but it probably had more to do with me thinking about the weirdness of the situation too much for this precise moment. It wasn't often that two Revenants were seen together, but it did happen from time to time. It was a natural occurrence. But it scared the living shit out of me. Two were so much more difficult to kill than one.

As was proven true when the other one kicked my shoulder and I fell over. Fortunately I had been crouched down still, so I didn't hurt myself on the way down, but the kick was powerful enough to dislocate my shoulder. I cried out in fiery agony and lay on the floor for a second too long as white hot pain blinded me. Surprisingly in that time I wasn't jumped on again or killed. So I lay there a bit longer.

Slowly I opened my eyes. Which was when SAS dropped from the ceiling and landed on my dislocated shoulder. I cried out again and nearly blacked out, but it had the advantage of putting my shoulder back in place. It didn't hurt any less, the damage was done already, but it wasn't completely unusable.

Not that I should have been thinking about that. I was getting punched in the face over and over. I couldn't see well enough to figure out where my gun was, so I grabbed a knife from my belt and plunged it into his side, plunging deep and dragging the blade down as he leapt off me. He crashed into the cockpit door and growled. I rolled onto my front and crawled through the curtains, by luck finding my gun on the way. My left eye was swollen shut, my jaw was pulsating with bleats of pain and a flow of blood which I helped along by spitting the stuff everywhere.