Free Revenence (Novella): Dead Red by M.E. Betts Page B

wielded the weapon, struggling in his acute distress to aim the barrel at Daphne.  She rose from her deep lunge in two steps, bringing her right knee into the sadist's already injured groin as she stood.
         He responded with a low, slow moan, his knees buckling as the gun slipped from his grip.  Daphne's hand darted out to seize the revolver as the sadist's body hit the ground, coming to rest in a horizontal position.  She kicked the gun away into the edge of the woods, where it was obscured by debris and darkness.
         To her right, she saw the other sadist begin to retreat from the woods.  She noted the approaching figure as his mate lay groaning on the blanket of pine needles covering the ground.  She bent down, regarding him briefly as she tased him for good measure.  She took the key ring from his right jacket pocket.
         "Tell Red he's dead," she whispered to him as she stood, making her way into the treeline in order to escape the detection of the other sadist.  She was already uncuffed, running silently through the woods in the direction of the water treatment building, when the young man realized that she was missing.
         "Where is that cunt?" she heard him demand of his partner, who was still inundated with shock and pain.
         Up ahead, Daphne saw the form of the building, the straight lines of its walls visible from between the trees.  To her right, nearer the road, the battle raged on between the sadists and their unknown challengers.  Reports rang out, echoing up and down the road, and every so often a small explosion could be heard.
         Daphne reached the facade of the structure, slipping in through the front door.  The building appeared to be empty, with no lights to illuminate the pitch-black interior.  She found a switch not far from the entrance, lighting up the main room.  She searched the modest building, which was comprised of only two rooms and a small bathroom, other than the chamber with the waterworks.  One of the rooms was the one in which she had been held captive, and the other was the large entry space littered with sleeping bags and various personal items belonging to the sadists, all scattered across the floor.
         She stepped into the tiny bathroom, her hand sliding along the wall until she located a switch, flipping it on and bathing the room in fluorescent light.  There was a full-length mirror attached to the back of the door.  She reached behind her back, tearing away the loose gauze.  Gazing over her shoulder at her reflection, she took in the image burned into her flesh.  It was in the shape of a tree, composed of small burns carefully placed up and down her back.  She mused that the scar left behind would last for the rest of her life, like a tattoo gifted to her by Red.  For the time being, however, she didn't grant herself much thought on the subject.  As she left the bathroom, she figured that what was done was done.
         "Time to do the rest," she said under her breath as her eyes scanned the main room, seeking the red and black dirtbike suit, boots and helmet she had been wearing when she was captured.  She wondered about her knife and the messenger bag full of throwing sticks.  She supposed it was likely that the sticks were still somewhere in the building, since there was a good chance that none of the sadists were proficient in throwing them.
         "That knife, though," she mouthed in the silent room.  "Probably already in someone else's sheath."
         She located the dirtbike suit with its matching headwear and footwear stuffed into a cabinet.  She smiled faintly with relief as she pulled the suit on.  She was suddenly glad for the fact that she wore an extra-small, since not many people could fit the size.  She presumed it to be why the suit was still in the cabinet.
         Upon the top of the five-foot-tall cupboard, she found the tan messenger bag containing her sharpened sticks and her wreath