Free The Night of the Mosquito by Max China Page B

people?’
    Kotlas detected movement. Slow, deliberate, moving low, approaching the inmates from behind. A glimmer of recognition froze in his eyes. His face impassive, he said, ‘It’s never too late to do something good.’
    ‘Do you know who you’re talking to?’ Brody’s expression grew colder. ‘Do you know what I’ve done? There’s no good in me.’
    ‘I used to think that about me,’ Kotlas replied.
    ‘Bullshit!’ Brody thundered. Taking two short paces, he held Fisher’s arm like a club. With a jerk of his head, he signalled the others to join the fray.
    Kotlas’ feet shifted, his upper body leaning back. He avoided the blow, snatched the chain, and whirled it around in a tight circle. His timing was out, the intended grip missed, but he instantly improvised. Brody’s head cannoned towards his. Kotlas dodged, delivering an elbow strike hard into the big man’s temple. Brody sneered.
    No effect. Dismayed, Kotlas saw Edwards fell one of his attackers, the crack of wood on head registering with him only afterwards. You’re out of sync. Focus. Distraction now his primary aim, he peppered Brody with a flurry of light blows, looking for an opening. Get him off-balance, take him down. Noting the deep laceration the big man had inflicted on his own wrist with his dismembering of Fisher, Kotlas knew attempting to control him through pain would be a problem. To one side of him, Edwards grappled with the last of the cronies who, despite blood flowing freely down his face, attempted to wrestle the guard’s baton from him. He paid for his momentary inattention as Brody clamped a hand around his testicles and squeezed. Kotlas jammed his hand down, fingers hooking, thumb levering, and forced Brody’s digits back. Brody would not relinquish his grip. One of the goliath’s fingers snapped. He squeezed Kotlas harder.
    ‘Jesus!’ Kotlas cried and jabbed a thumb into Brody’s eye socket.
    ‘Fucker!’ the big man yelled, one hand covering his injury.
    Rubenstein broke from around the corner he’d hidden behind. Kotlas saw something flash in his hand as he covered the distance between himself and the big man. He jabbed a syringe into Brody’s neck, his thumb slipping off as he pressed the plunger home. In the ensuing melee, the cylinder still attached to his neck Brody went wild, slamming Rubenstein with a bone-crunching fist. The older man crashed to the floor. Kotlas held on in desperation as he was swung through the air. Edwards rained blow after meat-thwacking blow down onto the huge head. Too late, Brody switched attention to Edwards’ murderous assault. Released from the iron grip, Kotlas sailed through the air. Twisting and turning like a cat finding its feet, he landed upright in time to see Edwards grabbed and hauled into a spine-crushing bear hug.
    Adrenalin numbing his pain, Kotlas focused on the back of Brody’s head. He took three short steps and delivered a blow, driving his fist upwards into the point where the big man’s neck connected with his skull.
    Brody staggered around, out on his feet, still locked on to the guard.
    Kotlas kicked the back of his knee.
    Brody toppled, bringing Edwards down on top of him.
    The young psychiatrist surveyed the carnage. ‘We need to check for surviving inmates and get them locked up, quick.’ He glanced from the dormant body of Rubenstein to Fleur and then to Edwards. ‘Where’s the hospital wing?’

 
     
     
     
    Chapter 16
     
    Avon Gorge. 9:52 a.m.
     
    Wolfe climbed the wooded cliffs, drawn to the sound of bells ringing in the distance. Halfway up, he switched from the punishing direct ascent he’d taken to a less arduous one, after discovering a zigzag series of pathways that ran all the way to the top. Panting from exertion, he paused, bent over, hands resting on knees. Two thousand press-ups a day while incarcerated had done nothing for his leg muscles. What’s with those bells? A wedding going on? Could be in line for a piece of bridal cake.