*****
Kyle had loaded up two holdalls with canned food taken from crates stacked at the back of the army camp and attached to a field kitchen. From the latter he had picked up an array of kitchen knives that he thought might come in handy.
At first, he had volunteered to help Quist find some useful weaponry but the security guard had assured him that he knew what he was doing. Though Kyle felt that was questionable he left him to his own devices.
As Kyle was about to leave the tent he caught sight of a shadow drifting by and from the size and shape there was no mistaking that Griggs had kept his promise – what was more he had a fire axe gripped in his hands as back-up.
The way that the shadow moved told Kyle plenty – importantly, that Griggs had no idea where his quarry was. Maybe, he had seen the youngster enter the compound but lost sight of his quarry all of which could work to Kyle’s advantage but, then, he never took things for granted.
Leaving the two holdalls on the ground, he backed to the back of the tent where he cut the ties to enable his exit. Once outside, he checked the position of his shadow and sighed with relief when he saw that it was behind him. Allowing himself a smile, he felt the weight of the knife in his hand with some satisfaction.
He had wondered if Griggs had run off with the crowd but deep inside knew that the loan shark would want to have that little chat. So now was not the time to disappoint.
“Oi! Griggsy,” he called out. “Let’s have that little chat.”
Griggs spun around.
The knife left Kyle’s hand – a brief flash of dull silver that faded as it sank into the loan shark’s belly.
He slumped to the ground, the axe falling a few feet away. Kyle had moved fast, his foot slamming down on the axe handle before Griggs could reach it. As the youngster bent to pick it up, so Griggs grasped the knife handle jutting from his belly but did not get to pull it out. Instead, screamed as the axe head slammed into his right leg smashing the bone just below the knee; followed by a second blow that shattered his left.
Kyle showed no emotion as he bent down, curled his hand around the shaft of the knife and twisted before pulling it free with a sucking sound.
“Takes a long time,” Kyle mentioned, staring at the sky that was showing the faint wisps of a fiery sunset. “Or so they say for a man to die from a gut wound. Maybe, it will give you time to regret the things you’ve done.” He dropped his gaze to look the ashen faced man in the eyes. “That little girl you crippled was my cousin – mercifully this disease got her. Unfortunately, for you, you got spared and so the story ends for you.”
Kyle retrieved the holdalls and walked away.