Ice Cold Kill

by Jake Striker

  I turned to confront the final ATV gunner. But I was too slow.

  He aimed a Tokarev pistol and snapped off two quick shots.

  One slug clipped my ALICE belt and the second zoomed overhead.

  I braced the SCAR and triggered a fiery triple-punch. Spent brass arced across my line of vision.

  My shots failed to connect. Suddenly my target was no longer there.

  I realized my error within a heartbeat. The Triad was rising from a shoulder roll.

  He was a dozen paces to my left. His pistol was spitting flame.

  A bullet struck my ribcage like a giant fist. A blinding flash exploded inside my skull.

  Pain seared every nerve. A bolt of cold adrenaline shot through my torso.

  The SCAR fell from my grasp. My legs buckled and I crashed backward onto the trail.

  Pain gave way to numbness and icy chills. I lay on my back with my face upturned toward the black sky.

  My limbs went stiff and immobile. I registered brand-new pain and tried to make a damage estimate.

  How badly was I injured?

  Warm blood oozed under one arm. My chest throbbed and my ribs ached.

  My sinews burned. I gasped and gulped air.

  I reached to probe my wound.

  The bullet had struck one of my SCAR magazines. That had blocked it from penetrating further.

  Still the impact had battered my ribs and lungs. Metal fragments had gashed my skin.

  I swallowed hard and gulped more air. My throat was on fire and my tongue grew thick.

  I gritted my teeth and focused. I had to repel my opponent.

  Where was he?

  A scuffle of footsteps reached my ears. I blinked to clear my vision and glanced downrange.

  The enemy trooper was closing fast. He had stowed the Tokarev.

  Now he grasped a saw-tooth machete. Its blade gleamed in the moonlight.

  I recognized the advancing man.

  It was Colonel Toom.

  Absolutely.

  His black eyes glistened and his mouth was twisted in a vicious snarl.

  According to intel Toom's father had given him the machete.

  Toom was known to decapitate opponents with the fearsome blade.

  It figured. His father had beheaded U.S. POWs during the Vietnam War.

  Toom raised the machete. He was poised for a killing strike.

  I had to act quickly and return fire. But I had lost the SCAR when I fell.

  That left one option. One last chance for survival.

  Failure meant certain death.

  I tensed every muscle of my aching body.

  My target was fast approaching with his gleaming blade.

  I grasped my captured ZOM rocket gun. I calculated angle and distance.

  Now!

  I rolled toward Toom. I leveled the ZOM and hit its trigger.

  The launcher fired with an orange flash. It spewed two-dozen finned steel darts.

  My aim was off and most of the salvo missed. Still I got a result.

  Five or six darts drilled Toom's legs and groin. He screamed and twisted through a sloppy pirouette.

  He dropped the machete and fell.

  The battleground went deathly quiet. Gunsmoke hung heavy in the air.

  I shoved upright.

  The night spun around me. I wobbled and steadied myself.

  I stepped ahead and retrieved the SCAR. I shifted toward Toom.

  He was draped on the trail. His arms were outflung and one leg was bent beneath him.

  Blood pumped where rifle darts had gouged his flesh.

  He was still conscious. His chest heaved and his throat bulged.

  He gaped at me as I approached.

  His right hand quivered and his fingers flexed. But the machete was beyond his grasp.

  I reached my quarry. I stood over him and studied him coldly.

  Toom's pallid face was covered with sweat and flecks of scarlet.

  He spoke in a gasping voice. "Your war is futile. You cannot win."

  I aimed the SCAR and drew its trigger. That silenced further comment.

  I turned and scanned for brand-new threats. No new enemies emerged and no gunshots pierced the dark.

  I trod downrange and reached the ATV. Its engine was still running and it was ready to roll.

  I thrust behind its wheel and buckled up. I checked my GPS to confirm my bearings.

  I had to cover twenty rugged miles and gain my Jeep. It should still be concealed and intact.

  I hoped so. I was counting on it.

  I threw the ATV's shifter into DRIVE and powered over the trail. Dust and dirt flew in my wake.

  I had to make a rapid escape.

  I gripped the ATV's wheel tightly to ensure I stayed on course. I could not afford a wrong turn and a lengthy detour.

  If I ran out of fuel I would be stranded. Likewise I could not skid off the trail into Dead Man's Gorge.

  A two-hundred-foot plunge onto jagged granite would not help me. Not at all.

  I narrowed my eyes and slogged ahead.

  The ATV's bulbous LEDs lit my way. Their icy beams swept tall boulders and cast long shadows.

  I veered around one hulking rock to avoid a nasty collision. Then I pulled through a sloping S-curve.

  I sped on. I checked the ATV's rearview and saw no tails.

  I checked again. There was no sign of enemy pursuit.

  I reached the end of the trail and rescanned my GPS. I altered my route a few degrees and gained a stony plateau.

  The ground here was firmer and allowed for greater speed.

  As I drove I recalled Toom's final words. You cannot win.

  I understood grimly that he was right. I could never win.

  I had achieved a temporary pushback and nothing more.

  America's foes were legion and Savage Evil existed everywhere.

  There could be no final victory in a war against thug hordes. They would never retreat and never surrender.

  Their greed and hostility were limitless.

  A temporary pushback.

  Right.

  Bile surged in my throat and seared my tongue. Weariness hung heavy on my shoulders.

  I spat a curse and roared toward my waiting Jeep.

  THE END

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  About the Author

  Jake Striker is an avid fan of action-adventure fiction. Ice Cold Kill is his first entry into the genre.

  Copyright Notice

  This eBook was created and published by Jake Striker in the United States of America. It is owned by Jake Striker. Copyright © 2020 by Jake Striker. All rights reserved. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this eBook (in whole or in part) in any form and by any means (known or hereafter invented) or storage in any information retrieval system (known or hereafter invented), is forbidden by the publisher.

  Disclaimer

  This eBook is a work of fiction. It is intended for entertainment purposes only. Names, characters, businesses, brands, places and events in this work are products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead or actual events is purely coincidental.