Last of Daylight

12.1 Stay Out Of The Way Of A Man With An Axe To Grind

Rayne turned her wrist, spinning the sword in her hand. Icarean blood spilled onto the floor, and mingled with the human blood. So much gore and soot covered her body. Of the twenty-two Icarean soldiers, only thirteen plus their leader remained.

Andrew tried to help John relocate his knee, Kyle bled from a sword gash on his bicep, and Nikki killed the Icarus which had blackened her eye.

Twelve left.

While surveying Rayne's troops' progress, an Icarus hauled her from behind and slammed her onto the nearest table. She kicked at the monster's face. "Fuck you!"

He dodged and pinned Rayne to the wet, bloody surface with a meaty hand. He took the time to lean down and snarl all his many sharp teeth in her face.

Rayne ground out, "Your breath wreaks, wingless." She knew at least she and Sagan couldn't be harmed as long as the Icari delivered them whole to their Icarean masters. So no matter how much this guy snarled at her, he wasn't about to hurt her much. There were other ways to torment her, unfortunately.

From where he gripped Rayne's no-longer-white blouse, he pulled her along with him as he ran down the length of the entire table. With every slippery meter, blood soaked into the back of her shirt and her disheveled hair. He lifted her from the table by the shoulders and slammed her against the wall with her feet dangling off the ground. Her back squelched against the blood-drenched cinder blocks.

"What's the matter? Afraid to take me out without daddy's permission?!" Rayne stuck her tongue out at him. Her breath came hard against the press of him on her chest.

That did it. He pressed harder.

But if he killed her, what would he tell the boss? It was an accident?

Fortunately, Sagan ran up behind the Icarus and shoved a knife through his chest. Brain impaled. Girl power!

He screamed and released Rayne. She slid down the wall, resting on her feet. She needed a second to recover from the sternum pressure.

Eleven.

"Are you all right?" Sagan asked.

Rayne answered, "I'll be—Down!"

Sagan dropped without hesitation and missed the blow from a sledgehammer. She swept her assailant's leg out from under him, and Rayne stabbed him through the chest.

Ten.

A little breathless, Rayne said, "Nice leg sweep."

"Badass bitch impaling."

Oh, what the hell? Rayne threw up a hand, and Sagan gave her a high five. Both grinned despite the apocalypse.

When the girls turned around, they stopped dead in the center of the cafeteria.

Korac awaited there in leather-clad splendor. Who was his stylist? They needed a bonus. He switched eye contact between Sagan and Rayne. Emphasis on Sagan.

The General's face was locked in that permanent, condescending grin. He spread his arms wide, and the two soldiers flanking him removed his leather duster. Like, seriously. Swept it off him and away.

Rayne straight-up rolled her eyes, but he paid her no mind. He maintained eye contact with Sagan for the spectacle's sake.

To Rayne's surprise, the blond girl peered at him with wide eyes. Her chest heaved from her shallow breath, and her lips parted. Not good.

Underneath his coat, Korac wore a sleeveless black shirt which bared his corded arms and the hilts of some kind of weapon at both hips.

One of the blood suckers ruined the moment by barreling into Sagan, knocking her over. Before Rayne could help, the assailant landed on Sagan's knife when he fell on top of her. Impaled himself. She rolled the dead body off her, but retrieving the weapon from the corpse wasn't happening. So she collected his sword instead.