Page 40 of Wild Idol (Tyson Wild Thriller #82)

B oone and his goons marched us up the mountain to the mouth of Tzacoyotl. It was as fiery and hot as ever. The cauldron of lava below burped and sputtered.

“Two choices,” Red Bandanna said. “You can jump in, or I can shoot you, and we can dump you in.” He laughed, and so did his comrades.

Neither option sounded particularly appealing.

I turned it around. “How about you jump in?”

His smile faded, and he took aim, shouldering the AK-47.

I raised my hands and surrendered. “I’d rather go out on my terms.”

“I figured you would.”

I shared a look with JD, not exactly sure how we were going to get out of this one .

The full moon loomed large overhead, presiding over our ultimate demise.

There was no foliage on this section of the mountain.

Just black obsidian volcanic rock, rough and jagged.

There were no sounds of crickets. Nothing but the hiss of gases coming out of the volcano, along with the subtle rumble of molten rock flowing in a hellish soup below.

I was surprised Solomon hadn’t made the journey to see us off.

But he had his hands full containing Star.

She wasn’t happy about the state of events, but Solomon still had sway over her.

The vision for their perfect utopia was just too embedded in her mind.

It was hard to let go. A dream she’d held onto for years.

Ours was just another sacrifice for the greater good. Another acceptable casualty.

The goons marched us closer and closer to the edge of the volcano, the heat growing more and more intense. Soon, JD and I were standing on the precipice, looking into the mouth of the demon. Noxious fumes swirled. The scent of sulfur soured my nose.

The rock beneath our feet was crisp and brittle. Stones fell away and dropped into the abyss. It felt like the ledge could collapse at any moment.

“What are you waiting for, tough guy?” Red Bandanna taunted. “Jump!”

The others chuckled again.

I’m glad they found this amusing ‘cause I sure as hell didn’t.

I had the sense that Boone was moments away from squeezing the trigger and watching us fall into the inferno. But I think he wanted the satisfaction of watching us dive in of our own volition.

The ground shook, and the earth rumbled.

It wasn’t a full-scale eruption, but the volcano burped, spewing speckles of glowing hot lava into the night sky. Tectonic plates shifted, and the earth bounced.

I almost lost my footing.

Red Bandanna stumbled to the ground, slipping on the gravel.

I took the opportunity to charge him.

I’d rather go out fighting for my life than incinerated in a pool of hot lava.

I flew down the steep slope as Boone staggered to his feet. I kicked him in his face. His jaw snapped shut, shattering teeth. His head spun aside, and he tumbled down the mountain.

The AK-47 clattered away and slid farther down the obsidian rock.

It was jagged and rough, like sandpaper and shards of glass. By the time Red Bandanna stopped rolling, he was full of scuffs and abrasions.

Jack had charged one of the other goons, tackling him to the ground before he could get a shot off.

I grabbed Boone’s AK, spun around, and took aim at the other thug. He had his weapon aimed at Jack, trying to get a clear shot as JD wrestled with his comrade .

I shouldered the weapon and took aim. My finger squeezed the trigger.

DAK!

DAK!

DAK!

The rifle hammered against my shoulder as I sent 7.62 mm rounds zipping through the air. They pelted into the scumbag‘s chest, erupting with crimson. He tumbled and fell into the inferno, screaming all the way down.

Jack still wrestled for control of the weapon with the other goon.

I tried to get a clear shot.

Another tremor shook the mountain.

By that time, Red Bandanna had climbed to his feet. He sprinted back up the mountain. With a face full of rage and a mouthful of blood, he charged at me with fury in his eyes. He tackled me before I could get a shot off.

We crashed down to the jagged rock, which didn’t feel pleasant. I managed to buck the dirtbag off of me.

He rolled away, then managed to charge back.

I kicked him in the face, shattering his nose, then grabbed the AK and put two rounds into him.

His face exploded, spewing bone and brain in all directions.

I may be biased when I say it was an improvement in his appearance .

I swung the weapon around and aimed at the remaining goon. By that time, JD had wrestled the weapon free. We both took aim and simultaneously put an end to the guy.

Muzzle flash lit up the night.

The scumbag twitched and convulsed with each hit.

Could I have waited for him to make another lethal move, waiting for him to reach for the pistol in his waistband? Yes. Would that have been a bad tactical move? Yes. Did I feel bad about killing the man in cold blood? No. Not at all.

I was trying to kill people only when absolutely necessary. This was necessary.

“Are you okay?” I asked Jack.

He looked himself over, his elbows and forearms bloody from the rough rocks. It looked like he had taken a spill on a motorcycle and had a close encounter with the pavement. We were both in the same condition.

Jack nodded. “I’m fine.”

I had no doubt the sound of gunfire had carried down to the retreat. With any luck, Solomon would believe his goons had executed us. But when they didn’t return, he’d figure out what happened.

We had the element of surprise for a limited window of time.