Cory opened her eyes to darkness and the smell of rotting hay and damp concrete. A small grey window let in enough light to make out the surroundings; it was a stall, now boarded up and fitted with a door. She was cuffed to an iron cleat in the wall. They had taken her purse, phone, shoes and the box which she carried containing twin 1860 Army colt revolvers. She had been stupid and this was practically her own fault. Like a naive civilian she walked into a theft-in - progress and ended up getting kidnapped for it.
Cory had been driving to Indianapolis to wish a friend on his birthday and hand deliver the gift she had bought for him. The friend was Sawa- Sawadila Melahan, one of the best technicians/makers of handguns. From antique pieces to fiberglass single shot mini guns to the snub nosed semi automatics, Sawa could tweak it, custom it, refit it and he even could make custom bullets with the precise explosive power and weight as per your needs. More than a decade ago Cory had helped him avenge his son, wiping out half a drug syndicate in the process. Since then he was not only a source but a friend of Cory's. Now aged 65, he had settled down in a wealthy neighborhood of Indianapolis and opened a boutique for antique and decorative fire arms.
Cory had called ahead when she was ten minutes out and Sawa had sounded pretty happy and relaxed. She was carrying a twin pair of 1860 Army Colts in a custom made box as a gift. She had entered the shop only to face a gun and two shotguns. And a red bearded seven foot thug in leather cutoffs sat next to Sawa holding a 0.45 Magnum. Sawa must have pressed an alarm taking advantage of the diversion. A shrill loud clanging exploded from everywhere. Red beard shot Sawa in the throat before Cory could react. She lurched forward grasping for the magnum while swinging the box she was holding at the man on her right. But the other man managed to punch his shotgun into her temple. That was the last thing she remembered before blacking out.
Cory now awake and fueled by anger, at them and at herself focused on getting out. She removed the hardened wire pieces from the hidden pocket of her jacket and picked her cuff. She heard a step, boots on concrete, someone was coming. Cory stood hunched pretending to be shackled. The dead bolt on the door was noisily drawn back and the door opened to reveal Red Beard. He was holding a seven inch knife, the gun was in his hip holster. He stepped into the stall and said.
"This can go easy..or.." He waved is knife. "Look doll. Soon as we'r satisfied you go free. I ain't for useless killin."
Cory faked a tremor and sob.
He took another half a step in. "How about you strip?"
Cory squeaked. "Water. Some water please."
"After! Now don't make me use this knife. Off with the clothes." He lurched closer waving the knife in a wide arc.
Cory took half a step away from the wall, still hunched, she gauged the distance and in a sudden explosive move kicked out, like a can-can dancer, only leading with her heel and not her toes. She connected with his nose and mouth. Red beard swung his knife wildly while Cory turned with the momentum of the kick and landed in a crouch. Red beard was dead even as he thumped to the floor. The brittle bone of his nose were pushed right up into his brain.
Cory took his knife and gun and stalked carefully out of the stall. There was no one about. She moved silently towards the door to what seemed like a farmhouse. The door opened before Cory could reach it. They were two. One Cory downed with a knife thrown at the base of his throat. The started to shout and retreat, Cory silenced him with a knock at the back of his head with the magnum. There were three more of the gang. They were playing cards in the kitchen. Cory did not want to kill any more. she made one tie the others. She made the last one collect all their money and their guns and her own stuff and haul it to the pick up truck before knocking him out. She slashed the tires of the two remaining trucks before driving away.
Now, when the danger was past, Sawa's senseless death avenged did she allow her tears to flow. She had lost a friend, birthdays never seemed very good for Cory.
PICTURE CREDIT: OOCITIES.ORG
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