The Chains — Chapter 8 — The Basement

Down below, Jack waits for the guns to run dry. Then it is his turn.

Kim doesn't like telling stories. So Jack tells it with him.

JACK

I waited.

Lit a cigarette. Let the bullets fly.

Went up a few steps, to get away from ricochets, and stayed in a covered corner, behind a column. Smoking. Counting.

Until I heard the guns go empty. Click. Click. Click.

Then I moaned out loud.

— Oh my God… what the fuck… this is blood…

Primetime soap opera acting. Pretended I'd taken a bullet.

The first one bought it. Came to check, slow, empty gun in his hand.

Took a kick to the knee that bent his leg the wrong way.

I grabbed him by the neck before he fell and put him in front of my body. Human shield.

The others were lost. Reload? Don't reload? Shoot their own buddy?

While they were thinking, I threw the shield onto one of them.

And I threw the pipe at the one who was already turning his gun on me. Caught him right in the stomach. The guy folded.

The third one was armed too.

I ducked just enough. Two shots went over.

I spun, put my back to the guy and grabbed the gun arm.

Bent his hand the way hands bend. Only I kept going. Kept going till the hand touched the forearm. And it broke.

I didn't let go.

Still with my back to him, I pulled the guy close, wrapped my arm behind his head and turned my body.

The guy did a hundred and eighty degrees in the air and landed on his back on the floor, in front of me.

I didn't even look down. Looking to the side, I stomped on his chest.

Stomped again.

Till I heard the rib crack.

That's when two more showed up from the back.

Both had more fear in their faces than fight.

Problem is, Kim had made the rule real clear upstairs. Wanted to fight or not, now they were gonna.

— Easy, bro, easy. Wait, wait…

I grabbed one by the neck.