Wednesday, September 5, 2012

Last Resort


My mind scrambled to find an escape plan as Azraal brought the glass of his blood over from the desk. 

General Gavsot had politely but firmly refused to mount a full assault on Azraal's Department.  He would only wait for me at the entrance.  Gus, however loyal to me he might be, was pretty powerless.  And I had no other friends down here, unless I counted Kivra as an ally.  And even though she'd shown up to miraculously save me from Azraal once before, it seemed that her victory had been due to a tense standoff.  Now we were in Azraal's territory, surrounded by his goons, and his confidence had grown.  Even if I could expect Kivra to swoop in to help--which seemed unlikely--the strategy she'd used last time would no longer fly.

I was on my own.  I was also out of time.  Azraal was bringing the glass to my lips with one hand and pinching my nostrils closed with the other.

So I just did whatever.  I closed my eyes, focused on my desperation, and released its energy.  It sent out a little pulse of something.  The glass shattered in Azraal's hand and the ropes around my arms burst.  It wasn't much, but at least it gave me something to work with.

A brief look of alarm flashed across Azraal's face, but he recovered swiftly, lunging for his desk.  The knife he'd used to subdue me sat by his computer keyboard.  I needed to act just as quickly.  I still hung painfully from the meat hook, but at least now my hands were free, leaving my telekinetic capabilities a little more open.

And then I was suddenly struck with inspiration--I'd do it like the Italian Job.

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