Bayou Remedy

Part 30

Kisin stared bleakly at the knife in Beau's hand as the man stalked forward, a predatory gleam lighting the man's eyes. He was going to die here. Now. It shouldn't have come as a surprise really. He'd known they were going to kill him. After all, how could they not? He'd seen too much and they'd done too much for this to have ended any other way but still, he'd thought he'd have more time. This was too soon, far too short of a time frame. There should have been more time! Time enough to escape or at least make a good attempt at it. Time enough for someone to have noticed he was missing. Time enough for a rescue. Time enough to survive. Now, there was no more time.

He closed his eyes as the thin metal touched his throat and prayed for the first time in years. He didn't specify a deity, nor was it a traditional prayer, instead it took the form of a desperate, wordless plea for salvation to anyone or anything that might be listening. It somehow seemed fitting that his last thoughts would turn to the divine when he'd spent the majority of his life in pursuit of science. He flinched as the blade slid an inch across his flesh, the hand in his hair holding his head steady for the blade's passage, a burning trail following in its wake.

Suddenly, the sensation ceased, his head falling forward as his hair was released. Ah, I'm dead then... This sucks. Annoyingly enough, he felt surprisingly similar to how he had before the knife slit his throat. Wasn't the pain supposed to stop when you died? What kind of an afterlife was this supposed to be anyway? He couldn't help but feel he'd been cheated somehow, as if death would care about his feelings on the matter. And what did it matter now anyway? He was dead. On the tail end of that thought he heard Beau's scream of fear and pain.

Kisin's eyes flew open, his blurred vision refusing to focus on the chaos before him. A black shape lunged out of the water alongside the boat, setting the craft rocking wildly as Beau stumbled and fell. A gunshot rang out a moment before a deadly hiss filled the silence that followed. Kisin tried to focus, to see exactly what had just happened but there seemed to be something wrong with his eyes. The shapes were indistinct, the lighting too dim, and his eyelids were so very heavy. He blinked and found his eyes didn't want to open again.

The ties binding his left wrist were suddenly cut and he slumped forward, vaguely aware of the arm slipping around his torso to support him as his other wrist was freed. Open your eyes, Kisin. You can do it... Just... open... His eyelids fluttered open and he caught the briefest glimpse of blazing orange eyes before his world tilted on its axis and he felt into unconsciousness.