55
The blade is all set to puncture my retina. Nothing but a blur.
I wait for the blinding pain. Death to follow soon after.
But a shot rings out.
I find some extra strength. A lot of it. I push back and realise the guy's arms have gone limp. He's wearing a bullet hole between the eyes, blood streaming down his face, into his beard.
Knife still in hands, he flops sideways onto the mesh floor.
I look up and see a pair of long legs standing over me. A lanky bastard in a grey suit.
Detective Clarke holsters his weapon.
"You took your bloody time," I say.
Clarke extends a hand. He helps me to my feet.
"You bring the cavalry?" I ask.
"If by cavalry, you mean . . . " Clarke looks behind him. Detective Morales appears. Low on breath with a weapon of her own held tight in both hands.
"
