Reckless [Dean Winchester]

15. The Reunion (Part 1)

15. The Reunion (Part 1)

My head feels like it's about to split open. It will soon if this douchebag keeps cracking it against the brick walls.

The storm overhead doesn't level the playing field much. The ground is slick and muddy. The rain is coming down in sheets, visibility is almost impossible. The thunder shakes the ground-the storm's directly overhead-and the lightning threatens to take a victim. I want it to be my opponent that it takes, not me or the kids.

He's an ape, my opponent: stocky build, gross, hairy, smelly. His clothes are torn, and he's got a healing cut on his right cheek where I'd just sliced into him. I've got to keep him away from them. I'm their only chance.

I know his strategy: throw me around until I drop the shank. Once I'm disarmed, go in for the kill. Well, buddy, I'm not dying today. They aren't either. I look to the frightened children as the ape stalks towards me. I see the fear in their eyes. My vision distorts a little.

I duck just in time to avoid the ape's fist from connecting with my face. He howls in pain, and I kick him backwards. Wrong direction-I kick him in the direction of the kids I'm fighting for. The ape notices; his burly body is turned to the kids. The little boy and girl regard the man with huge eyes and tremble violently.

"You little punks aren't going anywhere," he growls.

I don't scream like a wildcat; I go in silently. I use the wall, shimmy up, and push off it, launching myself onto his back, my shank dangerously close to slicing into neck flesh. He roars, and lightning cracks overhead. I grunt, feeling the water put more weight on my clothes and screw up my vision. I let out a cry as a grubby, thick hand entangles itself into my knotty, blonde hair. I'm flipped over the man's shoulder, my one hand on his and the other with a firm grip on my shank.

I try and gain my footing, but the ape insists that I stay down. He knees me in the face repeatedly, trying to send me into an instant coma. The children don't scream; their fear took them when this fight first started.

"Look at you, little street rat," the ape spits. "Worth nothing. How've you survived this long?" I spit blood on the ground. "You know...I could always find a use for you..."

"I'd sooner be hit by a car," I growl through a bloody gurgle. I take a swing at him with my shank.

The ape chortles. "Ooh, feisty. I'll start with you then move onto the little ones."

The hard punch sends my face to the side. The man still keeps a grip in my hair. With a hard tug, I'm on my wobbling feet. The malice, the hunger in his eyes, it defeats him in the end. He's waiting.

I don't wait.

I forcefully shove my tiny blade into the man's gut. His eyes harden, and he throws me into the wall, near where the kids are cowering. I'm seeing stars now. The man doesn't seem to acknowledge the wound I've given him. His murderous eyes are on me, and as he goes to grab me by my clothes, I go into him, stabbing him a second time in the gut.

In that moment, I let go. I let my hand, my shank, do all the talking. I lose count of the stabs. The ape stumbles back, now with a fearful look in his eyes. I don't recognize the smile I feel on my lips as I go for the man's throat.

One quick slice ends it all.

I hear a frightened squeak from the kids as the red gushes out of the man's throat. With another loud clap of thunder and a burst of lightning, the man capsizes into the muddy ground, eyes staring blankly ahead.