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   Chapter 49 No.49

Dead Beckoning By Christina Engela Characters: 5481

Updated: 2018-06-30 19:02

Blachart finally cried out from the strain of holding back, and from the pain in his shoulder. The slide had slowed and almost came to a stop but Blachart knew he couldn't hold on forever. Kilroy looked below and then back up at him, grimacing unpleasantly. He shared that knowledge. The face of the rock was smooth, there was nowhere to get a foothold, so he hung there, twisting slowly under momentum and gravity, turning the seconds into an agony for the would-be Adam. There was no way Blachart could pull the man back up, even if he chose to, nor any way Kilroy could climb up over him, and they both knew it. Kilroy's weight threatened to tear his arm from its socket – and it didn't look like he would fall before he took Blachart down with him! That hand could probably hold on forever – but he couldn't let go to use it to climb up him either. Time was running out for both of them.

"Well look at us now." Kilroy growled at his former comrade in arms. "Looks like we're going down together – in the best maritime tradition!"

Blachart's free hand strained on the ledge, the fragile purchase it held was sharp and rocky and bit painfully into the palm, but it was better than the alternative. A lot better.

"Yes, " Blachart grunted back under the strain. "Just like old times, isn't it?"

There was pain to contend with now too, the pain Kilroy's metal hand was causing, the tightly clamped fingers around his wrist and forearm were squeezing the life out of his hand, stripping the skin off it, the sharply-tipped metal fingers digging into his flesh. Grunts and groans of pain escaped Blachart's lips even though he resisted

ge that was his last strength, he strained his back muscles to slow his slide, and reached back with his throbbing right hand, and gripped the weapon. Down below, Sona Kilroy now found himself staring at Death from a new angle.

"Well, well – aren't you just full of surprises?" Kilroy growled. He reached up, grabbing in vain for the blaster. It was in Blachart's other hand, just out of reach, aimed right at Kilroy's head. Blachart adjusted his aim, and fired.

The blast was hot and bright at such close range, and the slap-sizzle loud in his ears. It should have seared Kilroy's arm through at the shoulder, but instead it just exposed more metalwork. How far did it go? Blachart cursed in internalized agony as Kilroy screamed in kind, squeezing still harder, causing the bones in his arm to creak and grind against each other. Blachart couldn't hold on much longer. If he blacked out, he would die!

"Is that all you've got?" The former Corsair admiral shouted at full volume with hate and venom in his voice, "The joints are locked – even if you kill me, you're coming with me!"

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