Help Her

You grip the rusted knife tighter, the edge still sharp enough for what comes next. Putting down your rifle behind the door. Using a gun would invite more trouble than it's worth. No more waiting. You shove the door open with your shoulder bursting into the room. The three soldiers snap their heads toward you, surprise flashing across their faces at your uniform.

But the momentary surprise didn't stop the closest one from lunging first, his fist swinging for your jaw. You sidestep, slash the knife across his forearm. Blood sprays he howls but doesn't stop he grabs your collar with his good hand and slams you against the wall. Breath hot on your face he draws a pistol from his belt. You knee him hard in the gut. You hear the air whoosh out from him as he doubles over, you then immediately drive the knife into his side and twist it deep. He crumples gasping as the pistol drops to the floor.

The second soldier charges, bigger than the first, tackling you to the ground. Your back hits the wooden planks hard the knife skittering away. He pins you and rain fist down on you, one cracks your lip, another glances off your cheekbone. You taste blood on your lips your vision blurring. You buck your hips rolling him off and scramble for the pistol beside the first soldier. But he grabs your ankle and yanks you back. You kick free, boot connecting with his nose in a crunch of bone. He reels back and you pounce for the gun and shooting into his chest. Once. Twice. He goes still, eyes glazing over.