Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 108563 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 543(@200wpm)___ 434(@250wpm)___ 362(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108563 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 543(@200wpm)___ 434(@250wpm)___ 362(@300wpm)
“Mmhmm.”
She knows I can’t respond. After all, she’s got my exact location at all times. She knows I’m right in the middle of the gym, doing what I can not to get sprung, so she doesn’t push me for any more of a response than that.
“343 is in the back. I assume he’s in what used to be a storage room. It’s too small to be a bathroom.”
I nod, despite Mila not being able to see me. “And The Midnight Killer?” I murmur, keeping my voice as low as possible.
“343 set up a few cameras outside. A black charger is pulling into the parking lot of the new gym. Could be him.”
“What’s he look like?”
She pauses, waiting as the guy finishes parking his car before finally getting out. “Big guy. Looks like he’s on roids. Dressed in all black. Could be your guy,” she says. “Hold up. We have a winner. He’s crossing the road.”
A grin pulls at the corners of my lips, excitement pulsing through my veins.
“Fuck me,” Mila scoffs. “He’s not even trying to be discreet about it. I think this guy’s ego is too big for his own head. There’s something about the way he walks. He’s too confident.”
“Yeah, well he’s about to walk straight into a trap.”
“Oop. He’s got a gun. Watch your back,” she tells me just as I hear 343 creeping back toward the main floor of the charred gym. “He’s almost there. Walking through the main entrance in three . . . two . . . one.”
A figure appears right at the door, striding into the gym as though he hasn’t got a care in the world. A twisted grin rests on his lips, and as I take my phone from my back pocket and spare a quick glance at the time, I’m not surprised to find it’s exactly midnight.
It’s almost poetic. Actually, I change my mind. It’s more lame than poetic. It’s predictable, and in this line of business, predictability is what gets you killed.
The Midnight Killer strides around the old gym, taking it all in as though he hadn’t bothered to scope it out before making this the location of his hit. Big mistake if you ask me. He’s done nothing more than a simple Google search, and because of that, he’ll lose his life tonight.
He searches the gym for another minute before lowering himself into one of the mismatched deck chairs, facing the main entrance. Mistake number two. As a general rule, no one is stupid enough to walk straight through the front door—except this guy of course. He should be watching his back, not the door.
“Is this guy for real?” Mila scoffs in my ear, the judgment thick in her slight Russian accent.
343 appears from the back, slowly creeping closer, only as he gets the perfect visual of The Midnight Killer, he pauses to assess, taking in his position in relation to every last possible exit. Whatever conclusion he comes to, he seems to be happy to finally make his move, silently creeping toward him.
He reaches for the rope dangling from the metal beam in the exposed ceiling, clutching it tightly in his palm before fixing his stare on The Midnight Killer. He stops directly behind him, tying a noose in the rope, and as the opposite end of the rope shifts with the movement, The Midnight Killer’s head whips around. Only it’s too late.
The noose is hooked over his head, and before he gets a chance to move one of those beefy muscles, 343 shoves one of the heavy weights he’d so carefully placed around the charred gym, and like lightning, the noose tightens around his neck and sends him flying to the ceiling, his neck snapping almost instantly.
“What in the ever-loving fuck just happened?” Mila murmurs, just as confused as I am.
I watch in amazement. I wasn’t quite sure what I was expecting to happen, but it sure as hell wasn’t that. Then, as 343 sets his sights on the dangling limp man hanging from the ceiling, I lean out from my hiding spot, trying to figure out how the hell he got up there. It takes me a moment to work it out in the dark, but it looks like he made a pulley system out of the rope, the weights, and the metal beam.
I have to give it to him. It was genius, and now The Midnight Killer is completely at his mercy. I suppose that’s what happens when kids actually pay attention at school instead of spending their days trying to get laid.
343 sits back in the deck chair that The Midnight Killer so violently flew from and simply waits, his work for the night done and dusted.
It was impressive. I’ve got to give credit where credit is due. I wouldn’t have thought of it.