The Fire In Me (Ryder) (COMPLETED) 1 ✔️

Chapter Nine Kill Me Now

Battle Cry- Beth Crowley

     I had jumped behind the couch before the bullet touched me. So this is how Dallas is going to kill me. He can't do it himself, so he sent someone to do it for him. I shake my head, pressing my back hard against the back of the couch. The gun starts firing bullet after bullet as I watched each one go through the couch, getting closer to me before I quickly drop to the ground making my body flat. I need a weapon.

      My eyes search the back of the couch for the hole, but I didn't see it. Where the hell did my dad put it? Then I remember his words echo through my head. 'You'd be stupid to put it in a hole in the back of the couch. The enemy might see the hole and get the weapon before you. No, it goes in a spot under the couch. A spot where whether you're in front of the couch or behind it, you can easily grab it'. Thanks, Dad. I quickly put my hand under the couch and search as I hear the gun being reloaded.

     Great. My hand hits the handle of the gun, and I quickly pull it from its spot and hold it in my hands, taking a deep breath. I'm about to kill someone. And it'd be on purpose. "Dallas said you'd be difficult to kill. He said you were strong." The man says as I hear his quiet and slow footsteps walking closer to me. Silently, I army crawl to the other end of the couch and peek around it. He had his gun up and is going to the opposite side of me.

    "My only thought was, 'It's a teenage girl. She shouldn't be that hard to kill'." He continues. Why do the creepy killer people have to talk to their victims? I shake my head. I'm not going to be the victim. He is. He jumped around the other end of the couch, pointing the gun at where I would have been as I made a run for the kitchen. The gun fires a few times, but I drop and slide through the doors closing and locking it behind me. Well, you've made it so far.

     What am I going to do after I get out of this? Get a dog. Yup, I'm getting a dog. It would bark and get me out of my thoughts, so I have time to fight back. It would warn me before anyone even kicked down the door. And not just any dog, a husky. Wait. A husky or a German Shepherd? Oh, that's a tough one. They're both so cute. Wait, oh, I got it. A German Shepherd husky mix. Yes! That's perfect. Shut up, Ryder. Focus. A man is trying to kill you right now, and you're talking about dogs.

     I'm not talking; I'm thinking. I roll my eyes at myself. Ryder, focus, will you? Right. I back up from the door and press my back against the wall with my gun by my face, waiting. Is he coming or not? Bullets fire through the door, hitting my sink and cabinets and breaking the window. "Maybe you will be a tough one to kill." He calls out through the door. "Maybe Dallas was right." Well, I'm not just gonna kneel in front of you and say, 'Kill me now.'

     "You saw something you shouldn't have." He says. "Dallas told us that. He said a civilian saw what we did. He said he'd handle it, take care of you, get you out of the way. So far, he hasn't. So Boss sent me to take care of it for him. And here I am." He sure likes to talk a lot. I don't like it. The door was kicked in as I turn, pointing my gun at him, but he hit it with his own knocking both of our guns away from us. Great. Guess I'm fighting.

     He throws a punch, but I duck and hit him in the gut with my own punch. I quickly grab his neck, bringing him down and kneeing him in the stomach hard before throwing a punch to his face. He stumbles back and looks at me. "So you can fight. How good?" He throws a punch, but I throw my arm out, blocking it as he throws another, and I block it also. He moves to knee me, but I quickly jump away, waiting for his next move.

     "You box?" He asks, subtly stepping towards me. "Let me guess, street box? Huh, I didn't expect that."

     "Why do bad guys always talk so much." I hiss, swinging my leg and kicking him hard in the face knocking him back against the wall before I throw punches at him that he somehow successfully blocks. He knees me in the stomach, causing me to grunt in pain and lean forward, which allows him to punch me in the face hard, so hard it knocked me over the kitchen table. I rolled off it and landed on the floor with a thud as a small groan escaped my lips.