Soul Slam, Soul Warriors Book 1

Chapter One A

“Olivia, hide.” Fitch, Gangfather, took cover across the corridor behind a sign announcing the King Tut exhibition right before a shadow fell over me.

I swallowed a gasp and crouched behind one of the vertical mummy cases littering the darkened hallway of the museum. I gripped the tire iron with sweaty hands. My heart beat a frenzied drill in my chest, echoing the clump, clump, clump of the footsteps coming this way.

The footsteps drew nearer. The shadow morphed from blob to human as it passed an emergency light. The profile clearly outlined a security guard’s hat. A security guard who wasn’t supposed to be here.

This is not what Fitch promised for my first heist.

We go in. Grab the amulet. Get out. That was the plan.

In slow motion, Fitch raised his arms and brought them silently crashing down, signaling he wanted me to take the guard out.

I shook my head. What were the odds the guard headed for the same exhibit?

Fitch’s wrinkled face grew stern. This was not a request. Get the guard now or pay for not listening later.

The guard paced across the floor heading our way, toward the exhibition about the Egyptian boy king. I didn’t care about all-important titles, didn’t want to rule the world. All I cared about was surviving. Collecting the prize for Fitch so I could stay in his family and watch over the younger kids.

Fitch signaled the crashing motion again. Then he pointed a gnarled finger at me, raised his hand to his neck and made a slashing motion across. My knees knocked together like chattering teeth. My perspiration had perspiration. If I didn’t get the guard out of the way, Fitch would get me out of the way.

The guard passed. I forced my knees to still. Fitch wouldn’t let this guy ruin the plan. The plan he designed down to the last second. The plan to be executed by me.

Or I’d be executed.

Actually, an execution wouldn’t be so bad. At least it was fast. If I didn’t pull this off, my fate would be long, slow, torturous.

Like my life.

No. Fitch would never execute me. He got too much pleasure abusing me. Without me to kick around he’d have nothing to do. His slashing motion had been overly-dramatic.

The guard strolled closer. So close, his evergreen aftershave tickled my nose.

My hands clutched and unclutched the tire iron. My stomach cramped and my gaze went fuzzy. I couldn’t stand here and wait for us to be discovered. I couldn’t let this security guard go into the King Tut exhibit. I couldn’t delay this heist any longer.

I raised my arms and held the tire iron high. The guard walked by. His thin frame and wiry mustache reminded me of someone from my past. My way distant past. Ignoring the tingle of memory, I gathered my courage to hit the guard on the head and knock him out. Just like Fitch wanted.