Welcome to the End

Chapter 11: Dominate Authority

Razor and Wild Eye stared at each other for a few tense moments, sunlight glinting on the edge of Razor's knife. It ended when Wild Eye took a step back and glanced for a split second toward a growing commotion. Razor slipped his knife back into the sheath on his belt, also taking a step back an to the side.

The two rivals parted, going to separate sides of the strike team involved in the skirmish. Wild Eye hadn't forgotten their first meeting, nor forgiven Razor for the loss of his eye, but he was apparently willing to wait until a more opportune moment to settle the score.

Directing his attention toward the shouting coming from a group of scavengers crowded together, Razor discovered a fight between the last survivor of the Bloody Hand tribe and the warriors trying to claim her as a prisoner.

Razor estimated her age to be late teens to early twenties. Her fiery red hair was wild and unkempt. As was standard among the Bloody Hand tribe, her hands had been dyed red all the way to the wrists. Tan leathers wrapped her waist and upper torso, keeping her somewhat covered while allowing full freedom of movement. Knee and shin pads used by catchers in baseball had been strapped to her shoulders and arms to strengthen her makeshift defenses.

She was quick and used her mobility to dodge the blades shoved in her direction, striking back with the dagger she clutched in her red hands. So far, she'd been most successful, injuring several opponents while taking no damage in return.

Perched atop a low wall, a scavenger waited for the right moment to jump down and tackle the woman. Razor thought it a good plan, but he decided he should be the one to do it.

Heading around behind the wall, Razor took hold of the man's ankles and pulled them out from under him, dropping the man hard on his face against the wall before hitting the ground. The dazed scavenger would be a few minutes in recovering, and it gave Razor all the time he needed.

Jumping up to the top of the broken wall of bricks, Razor instantly lunged toward the woman. She saw him coming and swung her knife up and over her head to meet him in the air. Twisting in mid flight, Razor angled his chest and caught the knife in the shoulder rather than the heart. Using the momentum of his jump, Razor slammed into the woman and knocked her off balance.

Because if the metal studs in the leather armor over his chest, the knife glanced off rather than stabbing deep. Retrieving the knife from the ground where it had fallen during his tackle, Razor used it to kill two scavengers who were trying to take advantage of the helpless tribal woman.

Reaching her, Razor buried his hand in her thick mane of red hair and pulled the woman back to her feet, driving his knee into her stomach to knock the wind from her lungs. She gasped for breath, unable to fight as he pulled her along. Razor held up the knife and looked with murderous intent at his fellow scavengers, daring them to challenge his rightful claim.

Although Wild Eye was visibly seething with hatred, he kept his place and watched. It still wasn't the right time for his attack, and he would wait. Razor knew Three Scar had been right. Someday, Razor would have to kill that man, and it looked as if it would need to be soon.

***

Once the clan retuned to their hilltop fortress, Razor pulled the woman captive into the tent of Three Scar and tossed her on the floor. It felt oddly similar to his first day among the scavengers.

The woman, having caught her breath on the way, spun around but remained in a low crouch with her red hands out in front of her in a defensive position. She hissed at him like a cat, baring her teeth.

While the woman braced to defend herself from expected advances, Razor calmly observed her movements and appearance, trying to learn about her from the methods Three Scar had taught him.