Total pages in book: 153
Estimated words: 140965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 705(@200wpm)___ 564(@250wpm)___ 470(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 140965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 705(@200wpm)___ 564(@250wpm)___ 470(@300wpm)
The three men were grouped close together. Calmly, Draden opened the door to the infirmary, and as they looked up, he threw a knife into the one whose gun hung by a shoulder strap. The second knife took the guard who had laid his weapon on the end of the bed. Both blades hit dead center on the carotid artery running prominently in their necks.
He closed the door behind him, crossed the room and shoved both dead men aside with his foot. It was only when Draden loomed over the man on the bed like the grim reaper that he realized anything was wrong. He opened his mouth to yell, but Draden slammed a blade deep into his throat and then wiped the blood on his shirt. He recovered his throwing knives and went to the door.
Thanks to his enhancements, he had excellent hearing, and he detected no footsteps nor the sound of voices. That didn’t mean he was in the clear. He snapped off the yellow light, so pale as to be almost nonexistent. That was a way the members of the MSS gave their locations away: they used electricity after dark when the villagers didn’t.
Cautiously opening the door, he slipped out into the cover of darkness. Above all other things, GhostWalkers were enhanced to be able to disappear into the night, fade into darkness and remain undetected by an enemy no matter how close they got to him—or her. Draden used his abilities to move like a wraith through the village, finding the home of the one he’d watched commanding the others.
Unlike most of the houses that had been built from every kind of material and even pieces of machinery they’d found or traded for, this house was more modern although very small. It was made of hardwood with a sloping thatched roof. The structure appeared a little lopsided, but it was sound and in much better shape than all of the other homes. Presumably the head of the village resided there.
Draden made his way through the buildings with porches held up by sticks of wood that looked as if they would snap in two if anyone of weight stepped on the planks. There was a small stick fence that went nowhere in front of the house. Three severed heads were stuck on taller poles and they’d obviously been there for a while. They looked grotesque, even in the dark, and Draden was certain this was the village elder, his wife and most probably his grown son. The commander of the MSS was inside, and the heads served as a warning to the people that he was in charge and any resistance would be met with swift retaliation.
Draden made his way around the strange little half fence and gained the porch. He moved from window to window, peering into the rooms. There were only four. The main room, the sleeping room, bathroom and a kitchen. The rooms ran right into one another with ornate tapestries hanging in the archways to separate each space. He could see the commander dragging something heavy to the door.
Draden pressed himself tight against the side of the house. He didn’t go up to the roof but remained absolutely still as the leader of the MSS opened the door and dragged a body out. It was a young woman. She was naked. Dead. He could see she’d been strangled. Most likely she’d been the wife of the young man whose head was on the fence.
The commander shoved her away from the door, rolling her body toward the edge of the planked decking as if it were garbage. A long sword was in his hand and he lifted it high and brought it down on her neck. The blade was so sharp it severed the woman’s head. He spit and shoved the body with his foot in an effort to roll it off the deck.
When she didn’t go off, he grunted, propped the sword up by the door, opened his pants and peed, the stream going over the body and then to the ground below. He turned, looked right at Draden, and then was back inside, shutting the door. Draden could hear him moving around, his footsteps going toward the sleeping room.
The GhostWalker followed him around on the outside wall. The sides of the house jutted out to nearly touch the end of the outside planking, making it difficult for a big man to traverse the narrow passageway, so Draden clung to the side of the house like a giant spider.
Once in the sleeping chamber, the commander stripped and stretched out on the thin woven mattress. He cursed a couple of times, clearly not used to the hard floor the elder had preferred to sleep on. Finally, he lay on his back, hands behind his head, staring up at the ceiling.