Linda Andrews - Extinction Level Event

Trent turned left.

The pastor was bound to have a phone in his office. Closed doors lined this hallway. He tried a knob. Locked. Interesting. Did that mean there was something of value inside? He eyed the last door on the right. It alone was open. Holding the knife behind his back, he approached.

No point in scaring the pastor needlessly.

A muffled sob filled the interlude. Trent paused by the doorway. That didn’t sound like a man. He peered around the doorway.

Goth Lolita leaned over the desk. Her dark hair cascaded over the marked-up calendar on the battered surface. The dead man sprawled over the desk. “What am I going to do, Papa?”

Papa? The pastor was her father? Trent filled the doorway. So she wasn’t homeless. That explained why she smelled clean. He eyed the hand near the phone. Blue tinged the fingers. Trent smiled.

Papa was dead.

He tightened his grip on the knife. Perfect. And he wouldn’t need to waste time earning the little cock-tease’s trust. He cleared his throat. “Did he succumb to the Ash Pneumonia, too?”

Goth Lolita’s head whipped up. Without the smear of black under her eyes and the white powder, she looked younger than yesterday. “How did you get in here?”

Trent licked his lips. Maybe he’d be her first. Then she’d think of him every time another man fucked her. With only one small window six feet off the ground to provide light, she would have to pass him to get out. He was in control here. “The door was unlocked.”

He stepped into the small office.

“You shouldn’t be back here.” She stood. Her oversized black Ramone’s tee shirt brushed her bare thighs as she backed up. When she hit the black particle board bookcase, it wobbled.

All that white skin. His cock twitched. Yeah, he’d have fun breaking her in. He leaned back against the wall. The blade flattened against his ass. But there was one little matter he needed to know about first. “Do you want me to wait outside for the police to show up?”

“Yeah, wait outside.” Her gaze faltered and she sucked on her full bottom lip for a moment. “The police should be here any minute.”

Trent smiled. She was lying, and liars should be punished. He would take care of that. “Your father did an excellent job raising you. It couldn’t be easy, such a pretty girl among all this…” He raised his empty hand. “…this riffraff.”

She glanced up at him. The muscles in her neck convulsed as she swallowed hard. “Just outside the door is a stoop. You can sit there until the police come.”

“Of course, dear old dad will be most disappointed in you now.” He shook his head, tsking softly, and stepped further into the room. “Lying is a sin.”

She inched along the bookcase, away from him. “I’ll scream, if you don’t leave right this minute.”

“I’ve found I like screaming.” Trent took another step away from the door.

“You’re sick.” Her eyes darted from him to the door then back, all the while moving along the bookcase, keeping the desk between them.

That’s it. Measure the distance. Believe you can make it . He took another step. “And you’re alone.”

Clearing the desk, she dashed for the exit.

With his free hand, he grabbed her hair, yanking her back.

Momentum carried her feet out from under her. She clutched at her hair while she went down.

“We haven’t had our fun yet.” His heart raced toward the finish line as his erection raged against his fly. Trent whipped up the knife. Not quick enough to get her under control, only to nick her.

“Go fuck yourself!” Gaining her feet, she twisted and raised her knee. Her full lips pulled back from her even teeth.

He turned in time to avoid her assault then propelled her toward the wall. With his free hand still in her long hair, he slammed her skull against it. Once. Twice. Power surged through his veins. This was one bitch who’d learn her place. The drywall flaked and cracked. “No, I plan to fuck you .”

She swung her hand around. Her fingers, clasped to a tight point, hit the delicate skin by his eye.

“Bitch!” Rage flooded him. She’d tried to blind him. Him. He slammed her head against the wall and felt her legs go limp. Excitement made his grip on the knife slippery. Releasing her, he watched her body collapse onto the worn carpet. Her black shirt rolled up to reveal the purple tee-back. He lifted his leg back to kick her.

“Leave her alone!”

Something slammed into his side.

He tripped over Goth Lolita. Momentum carried him into the damaged wall. What the fuck! Trent twisted so his back could take the impact and swung the knife up. The blade sunk in until his hand encountered soft flesh and a slurpy sound reached his ears.

“I’m gonna kill you!” Tattoo’s shout rang like a clapper inside Trent’s skull.

A meaty fist banged into his jaw and a metallic flavor flooded his mouth. Trent grasped at the blade but his fingers slipped off the handle. Shit! The man was going to kill him.

Another fist pounded his temple. Stars filled his vision, fighting the blackness for space. Ignoring the knife, Trent slipped his hand down the soft fleece of the big man’s sweatpants, grabbed his balls and twisted viciously.

The big man squealed like a stuck pig and reached for his nutsac.

Using his advantage, Trent shoved the brute away from him. He stood on his toes, raising the man’s scrotum and stuck his face into the other man’s. “If you want to fuck the bitch, you’ll have to wait until I’m through with her.”

Tattoo’s eyes fluttered. His teeth clenched and sweat beaded his upper lip. “If you touch her…,” he wheezed in a falsetto. “…I’ll hunt you down and kill you!”

Trent squeezed the ball sac tighter, felt the hard nuts ping inside the twisted flesh. What the hell was wrong with him? The man acted like he wasn’t a criminal, robbing the dead and dying. That was much worse than fucking a worthless bitch. “Wrong answer.”

Cold metal pressed against his injured temple.

“Let. Him. Go.” Goth Lolita moved into his peripheral vision. Blood trickled down her cheek and joined the beads weeping from the nick on her throat. The look in her eye was familiar.

He’d seen it in his reflection when he thought of his ex-wife.

His now deceased ex-wife.

So the little cock-tease was prepared to kill. After one final twist, Trent released Tattoo’s balls.

The big man clutched himself, before collapsing into a gasping heap on to the floor.

Trent raised his hands almost shoulder level. Too bad he hadn’t known about the gun. He could have used it instead of the knife. “Now what?”

Her gaze never left his face. “You have three seconds to leave before I start shooting.”

He stepped over Tattoo on his way to the door. The muzzle of the gun never left his head. Nor did it waver.

“Two.”

Trent lurched for the door. The bitch didn’t even have the decency to start at one. He cleared the threshold.

“Three.” A bullet splintered the wood frame.

Chips dug into his cheek. He bounced off the wall. From the corner of his eye, he watched Goth Lolita walk after him. He sprinted down the hall. His heart pounded; his breath rung in his ears. Out. He had to get out. His boots barely touched the worn carpet.

Slowing, he banked wide to make the turn.

With both hands on the gun, she stalked him. A smile pinned to her bleeding and swelling face.

Trent made the turn. There was a bang then something hot streaked across his back. Fucking bitch. He’d been shot again. By a woman! He eyed the door at the end of the hall. The next woman he met, he’d kill on principle. They all needed to die!

A bullet whizzed over his shoulder and sunk into the metal door.