Chaos erupts.
The firebomb goes off with a crash, and the two men scream as they stagger back, flames on their clothes keeping them from fumbling for their weapons. Like clockwork, I see Paul pop out of cover and fire at the big guy with the scar, who takes two to the chest and goes down. Immediately, the crowd scatters. Cursing fills the air as the gambling men run for the exitways, and a few people who spot us just start crawling out over the piles of cars.
The man taking bets pulls out a pistol and fires back at Paul, but I come out of cover with mine raised and put a bullet in his head before he can get off more than a couple shots that ricochet off the metal.
The two guards by the ring are burned badly, but they’re getting to their feet and getting their weapons out, so Mike and I move in.
Mike fires at them, but I haven’t forgotten the other guard just beyond the entryway. I blindfire around the corner and hear a curse, and the first guard lunges at me from behind cover, closing the distance before I can aim a shot at him. But I’m ready.
I crouch down and brace for his impact, throwing him over my shoulder when he rushes in. Almost as soon as he’s on the ground, I’m on top of him. I drop my knee down onto his throat with all my weight, crushing his neck instantly.
“Shit!” I hear Mike curse, and I look back to see him taking cover, holding his arm. He’s been hit.
“Get down!” I shout, and I provide covering fire for him, hitting one of the two burned guards in the stomach. He crumples, and I see Paul and Tony moving in from behind the other side, guns out.
That’s when I hear the sound of an engine.
I watch Paul and Tony’s attention turn to their right from across the ring, and Tony cries out, pushing Paul out of the way as a truck comes barreling out of nowhere. It pulls a hard right as it flies toward the two, and I shout as Tony gets slammed by the side of the truck going God-knows-how fast.
His body goes rolling to the side as Paul scrambles to cover, and bullets are already flying from the truck. The truck flips its brights on, blinding me and Mike, and we’re forced to cover, firing at it from behind the ruins of a car.
My adrenaline is racing, because I caught a glimpse of what’s in the bed of that truck: about four more men, and the sound of those bullets told me they’ve got automatic weapons. Uzis, if I were a betting man.
“It’s a fucking trap!” I shout, “Paul, get out of there!”
But there are already gunshots ringing out, and I can’t see Paul. I grab Mike and pull him close to me. “I’ll draw their fire, get Paul and get the fuck out of here!”
“What?!” he hisses, “I’m not leaving you, Bruno!”
We both duck on reflex as bullets pelt the car, and I know I have to move fast. Then I hear his voice.
“Bruno, you still alive?” calls Lorenzo from the truck, a mocking edge to his voice. “Think we have some unsettled business! My boys here have been dying to meet you, why don’t you come say hi?”
“Fuck,” I mutter. “Mike, I’m not fucking around, when I move, you move opposite me.” I don’t give him a moment to respond. Blindfiring to cover myself, I dart out from behind the car, crossing through plain sight. Bullets start peppering the ground around me, but adrenaline is pumping through my body now. I don’t look back to see whether Mike listened to me, but in what feels like a second, I’m back into the labyrinth of shadows and cars, away from the ring.
If I want to survive tonight, I need to draw them into my territory.
I get low and reload my gun, making a wide circle to their position. I know they’ll either be tailing me, trying to head me off, or both, depending on their numbers. I need to be ready for that.
“Your pal here left a dent in my truck, Bruno,” Lorenzo calls. “Don’t worry, I’ll try to keep your death nice and clean. Cleaner than this shmuck, anyway.” His words come with the sound of a single shot as he puts Tony down for good.
I grit my teeth.
They’ll pay for tonight.
I hear footsteps up ahead of me. They’re moving quietly, but my ears are sharper. Without having to think, I move to the wall of cars and climb into the nearest gap I can find, pressing myself flat against it. I can hear my heart pounding. I never liked skulking through the shadows, but they’ll be my ally tonight. Pistol still in one hand, I draw my knife.
In the blink of an eye, I watch two figures pass by me. I seize my chance. Like a specter, I lunge out from the darkness. My gun-hand wraps around the mouth of one while I drive the knife into the base of his skull with all the force I need.
His body hasn’t hit the ground twitching before his comrade turns, wide-eyed, and fires blindly at me as I dive for him too. I feel the sting of at least two bullets in my shoulder, but that doesn’t stop me from driving the knife into his throat.
Shit. I used the knife because I wanted to keep from making too much sound, but the man has given me away. As he crumples to the ground, I stow my knife and pistol to collect the Uzis from the men. Their blood is sticky on the handles.
The others must have been close, because no sooner have I picked up the guns than I hear the rush of running footsteps behind me. I whirl around in time to see another two of the thugs running my way, but they stagger to a halt as they see me and my guns.
On reflex, they fire off at me, and I dive for cover as I shoot back. There’s a sting in my thigh, and I know I’m hit, but I see one of them hit the ground, dead, and the other groans. I think I hit him in the gut.
I can hear Uncle Carlo in the back of my mind, chiding me for being so imprecise. You’re the one who taught me how to defend myself in the first place, you crazy bastard.
To my right, I see light filtering through the cars. I realize the light is coming from the headlights—there’s a crack in the rusted machines just big enough to slip through and get back into the clearing where the ring is. And I wouldn’t care to do so, except that I see a familiar figure walking nearby in that light.
Lorenzo.
There’s a guard with him, though. I have to make this count. I draw my pistol again. I need to be precise. I move up carefully, as silently as I can be. My heart sinks as I see Paul on the ground, across from them, not moving. I get up just close enough to where I can make the shot, and Lorenzo’s back is to me.
Broken glass crunches under my boot. The guard’s gaze darts to me. I have to act now.
As he raises his gun to fill me with lead, I lunge forward and seize Lorenzo from behind, arm around his neck and pistol to his head. The guard has his gun trained on me, his face twisted into a grimace, but he freezes, and Lorenzo tenses up.