RAGE (Descendants Saga (Crisis Sequence One)) Read Free Page A

just can’t focus on that now.
    My shadow appear s on the ground with white light from the hall outside framing my form. I continue to shout. Holly stops, her attention drawn to me. The creature turns to me also. It stands close enough to Holly to be seen in the dim red glow of the exit sign above the door.
    I am the one making all of the noise, so it is drawn to me. I imagine how obvious a target I must be now. My silhouette framed by the hall light must look pretty tempting. It charges across the infirmary toward me.
    I fumble with the pin set through the extinguisher’s trigger. I g et my finger in the ring and yank it free. A moment of fumbling with the tank releases a short burst of powdery spray toward the floor as I try to get the hose without dropping it.
    The creature r uns straight for me. There is nothing strategic about its tactics at all. Basic raging attack. The shortest distance between two points is a straight line, coming like a mad dog.
    The nozzle finally decide s to comply. I raise it and squeeze the trigger. A wash of powder jets out into the creature’s face. At the last second, I realize it is still charging blindly at me, its hands outstretched.
    It r uns through the cloud and leaps at me, its face covered in white like a man just hit with a pie. I have no time to react. However, I am not exactly defenseless. As a younger boy, I took a couple of years of instruction in Israeli self defense. Krav Maga. Not tournament stuff, but real world applications. How to drop somebody fast and diffuse the situation.
    The fire extinguisher tank remains between me and the creature. It gets a hold on me, and my instincts take over. I know enough to use its momentum against it. I turn my body as it hits me, using the extinguisher tank to push it away. There comes a quick scrabbling of limbs, fingers trying to find purchase on me. Then the beast hurtles beyond me, inertia and my instinctive maneuver forcing it to stumble on by me.
    I turn after the creature and spray the extinguisher again. I scream in my fear and fury, but manage to choke it back a moment later. If this thing is blind at the moment, then I better not give it sound to focus upon.
    Instead, I charge toward it, mustering my anger for the courage to attack. The extinguisher is lightened somewhat by me spraying its contents all over the place, but it is still made of metal. I bring the tank down on its head like a sledge hammer.
    No doubt, I hurt it. I imagine the pain such a blow would cause me, if our roles were reversed. Unfortunately, it cares nothing at all for the pain. Undaunted, the creature rises and starts toward me again.
    I pummel it across the face with a backhanded blow. I feel something give way then, hear the muffled sound of cracking bone beneath flesh. It stumbles away and then turns back. It isn’t stopping.
    Another swing for a rock solid hit. The creature is disoriented now. Most likely, I do enough damage to its head so it can’t see or hear me now. Its movements are desperate, wanting to kill but unable to find its prey.
    I raise the tank over my head and then hurl it low at the creature’s legs. The extinguisher crashes into its shins. At least one of the bones shatters. The fiend goes down on its knees.
    The adrenaline rush ha s me shaking by now, my anger leading my actions more than my fear. I rush the creature, as it raises its head toward me again. Using my arm like a hook, I wrap it around the thing’s neck, getting behind it. I bring my other arm up to lock the hold and squeeze down with as much pressure as I can.
    I am only a teenager, but I am pretty strong. The doctors here in the Tombs show a particular interest in how strong I am. Holly mentioned it also, making me blush a little because she is still a young woman and very pretty.
    Even these things require air to breathe, and I am cutting off its supply. I squeeze harder and harder. My arm tingles numbly.
    Then I hear my name being called softly in the