“Step away from him and slowly lay the knife on the altar,” Abbie said stepping from her hiding spot. Startled eyes swiveled towards her and the automatic rifle she held. The one with the knife did as she told him.
“Let me assure you if I fire this gun, someone’s gonna be dead,” she continued, “Now, line up in front of the altar.”
Abbie watched as twelve robed figures slowly obeyed her command.
Rodger squirmed on the ground, struggling to get to his knees.
“You okay, there, Rodger?” she asked.
“I had everything under control, until you walked in,” Rodger grunted as he worked to escape from the amateur’s bonds.
“I see. Had them right where you wanted them, did you?”
“Exactly,” Rodger said as he continued struggling with the knot.
One of the robed figures moved, perhaps thinking Abbie was distracted.
“Easy there, big boy. Remember? I fire. You. Dead,” Abbie flicked the muzzle at him, motioning for him to move back.
Once free, Rodger walked to Abbie.
“Geez, Abs, if you had just kept quiet,” he began.
“If I had held my tongue, you’d be dead.”
“I was running out of options,” he grinned as he stepped past her.
“Dead,” Abbie repeated, backing out of the cavern.
“Everything is so black and white with you, Abs.”
“What about the device?” Abbie whispered, watching the robed figures.
“I have a plan.”
“Is it as good as this one?”
“We’re clear. Follow me,” Rodger said.
Abbie turned, and they ran.
Keep on writing.
Jo Hawk The Writer