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Fiction
Home›Fiction›Lobo Gris Part 2

Lobo Gris Part 2

By Deannad
August 13, 2018
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Before I could react, the man was on me, taking me to the ground. I deflected each blow, blocking and parrying his fists. In one hand he wielded a short blade. But, with one quick jab to the tender part of his wrist, I disarmed him. With an elbow to the temple and a ridge hand to the throat, I put him down on the submarine floor. The tussle alerted his buddies, and the door to the sonar room shot open. Four men headed toward me, each armed with a small knife and enough skill to put me to bed early.

My first attacker’s fallen knife was not far. After kicking out the legs of one guard and seeing him tumble hard, I dove down as if sliding into home base, grabbed the blade, and popped up just in time to plunge it into the neck of another henchman about to pummel me with his meaty hand. Blood poured from the wound as he dropped to his knees. Two down, two to go.

A voice boomed from the sonar room.

“Well done, Victor,” Marcus bellowed as he applauded. “You have skill. I had a feeling it wouldn’t matter if you had your toys or not.”

“It’s over, Marcus,” I stated, keeping my eyes on the two remaining attackers who halted their actions once their master appeared.

Marcus walked toward me confidently, not caring that I still had a knife poised.

“It is over,” he said leaning close to my face. His breath reeked of stale coffee and whiskey, and his sagging skin vibrated as he laughed.

An alarm sounded and an automated voice gave instructions on the remaining minutes before the submarine would self-destruct.

“I’m not going to prison,” Marcus said quietly. His bodyguards shoved me hard toward the sonar room. As they pushed, I raked my hand across Marcus’s neck; the concealed blade I carried drew blood. Marcus screamed in horror, clutching his throat. With an elbow to one goon and a knee to the other, I was free of their grip as they doubled over in pain. Marcus screamed in agony as he lay bleeding out on the floor.

The countdown announced, “three minutes to self-destruction.” I darted into the sonar room and found the submarine escape immersion equipment already laid out for their planned escape that would leave me in an exploding submarine deep underwater. I grabbed a suit and headed toward the escape hatch.

“Two minutes.”

“One minute.”

The escape hatch was heavy but not impossible to turn. Three swivels and the hatch opened. I engaged my immersion suit and swam to freedom seconds before the submarine exploded beneath my feet.

This was a close one. It may be some time before I eat ice cream again…

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Deannad

Deanna is a freelance writer and editor based in New Jersey. Her work ranges from comic books to press releases. She loves anything creepy or weird, and will even subject herself to cheesy horror movies regularly.

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1 comment

  1. Jdestito 15 August, 2018 at 12:06 Reply

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