Flee by Ann Voss Peterson, J.A. Konrath Read Free Book Online Page B

reflex squeezing the trigger even as I felt a foot
connect with my knuckles, knowing I hit her somewhere in the legs, knowing it
didn't matter if she had that stuff smeared all over her body. Liquid body
armor. I might as well have been shooting case-hardened steel.
    My
gun went flying—a testament to the power of her kick. During training, I'd had
to hold onto a gun for a week straight without ever putting it down, but she
knew right where to hit me to make me lose my grip.
    Then
I was on my back, and she was on me, and I knew she'd had the same training I'd
had, meaning I'd likely be dead within the next two seconds.
     
    "Your body is a weapon," The Instructor said. "Hands,
feet, elbows, knees, head. In close combat, commit immediately and fully, aim
for your opponent's vital points and nerve points, and hit and stick to deliver
maximum damage. Strike fast, strike hard, and try to strike first."
     
    I
struck, going for her eyes. My fingers hit their target, jabbing the cheekbones
and sliding upward into the soft tissue. I could feel her grunt of pain in my
own chest. I thrust harder, trying to gouge her eyes out, or better yet,
penetrate the thin bone behind the optic nerve and plunge into her brain.
    I
wasn't so lucky.
    She
moved her head to the side and brought the edge of her hand hard against the
front of my good shoulder, connecting with the large bundle of nerves that
passes in front of the joint. My fingers buckled. My arm slumped, numb and
useless.
    She
brought her hands to my throat, her thumbs pressing right below my larynx,
aiming to crush my trachea. I clawed at her with my other hand, still tingly
from the Demerol. My vision blurred. But through the motes I could see her eyes
were half closed, tears and some blood glistening on her cheeks.
    Flexing
my stomach muscles, I lunged upward, smacking my forehead straight into her
nose. She released her grip, stunned for a moment, reflex bringing her hands to
her face.
    A
moment was all I needed. I bucked my body, tossing her to the sidewalk. One
move and I was on my feet. My balance lagged behind and I had to pause half a
second to adjust.
    Too
long. Barely a moment passed and she was up too, striking fast and hard with a
cut to the jaw.
    I
blocked her blow and drove my elbow into the side of her head. Still unsteady
on my feet, I couldn't muster enough force to do real damage, and she came back
at me with a palm-heel strike to my solar plexus.
    Breath
fled from my lungs. I gasped, sucking in air. I managed to block her next blow,
still wheezing when she landed a knee jab to the stomach that doubled me over.
    She
grabbed my hair and yanked my head back, searing pain ripping along the cut in
my scalp. I struggled to twist to the side, throw her off balance. No good. She
shoved my head down, smacking my forehead hard against her knee.
    Flashes
of light exploded in front of my eyes. I staggered to the side, somehow keeping
myself from going down.
    My
injuries were making me sluggish. After the morning I'd had, she was faster,
fitter. If I hadn't impaired her vision, there would be no way I could keep up.
I wasn't sure I could now. I needed to end this. Quickly.
    Before
she ended me.
    She
struck again, fast, as I knew she would, coming in too close, too certain of my
defeat. She attacked from the right, trying for a strike to my carotid artery.
    I
managed to block with my left elbow then straighten, bringing my right elbow up
under her jaw. I clipped her hard, driving her head back. I followed with a
strike to her throat from the other side.
    As
she staggered back I grabbed her, my right arm over her chest, my left under
her thighs. I straightened my legs, pressing her against my torso and lifting
her like a barbell.
    She
wasn't ready to give up yet. She found my face with her hand, trying to land a
stunning blow to the sensitive spots behind my ear and the base of my skull,
and failing that, jabbing for my eyes.
    I
tucked in my chin, keeping my balance. A grunt rasped