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“The tiger and the lion may be more powerful… but the wolf does not perform in the circus.” — Mahendra Mogaveera

Axel

By the time I dispatch the last moron who dares keep me from my wife, a deluge of rain falls, reducing my visibility. Slipping on the mud, ignoring the forty-mile-per-hour gusts, I sprint down the hill in the dark. Once I reach the office building, a part of my brain registers the lack of gunfire. Hopefully, the survivalists have surrendered, allowing my pals to tuck the ladies safely into the hotel room.

Inside Lewis’ private lair, I curse. Where is she?

“For fuck’s sake, you’re not helping,” Gwen sounds so close I turn, expecting to see her.

Oh shit. I race to the open window, lightning strikes, and my heart jumps into my throat. At my eye level, she wobbles near the top of a tall pine.

“You’re almost there. Get it.” From this angle, the asshole below remains hidden behind the thick boughs outside the fence.

The storm intensifies. My wife stretches her fingertips toward the paper airplane containing the microdot. With the tree swaying in the wind, on tiptoes, she tugs a branch down to her face. While she leans over, the branch she stands on bends precariously.

I have only moments before it breaks.

Praying for a Hail Mary, I shove the desk off a four-by-six area rug. After I fold it in half, I wrangle it out the window and toss it over the barbed wire. Next, I climb out the opening, push off the building, then land on the protective surface. As the razor wire collapses under my weight, I swing my legs to the other side of the fence, clutch the carpet’s edges, and slide with it to the ground.

Worried Lewis may have heard, I peek around the corner. My held breath releases when he ignores me. Instead, his eyes remained glued to my wife directly above him. Two of her fingertips inch toward the bill.

Babe, don’t do it, I call silently, but it’s too late. When the wood snaps, her arms thrash in the air. As she wobbles, I monkey up the chain-link fence and throw the carpet over.

A second later, her body bounces off the thick wool. Unmoving, she lands on the ground back inside the compound, the bill held in her fist.

Gwen! Hang on, babe. My God, she may have broken her back. Undoubtedly, the fence slowed her descent. She didn’t fall too hard. I hope.

After I race through the front gate, I squat beside her. My finger on her neck, at first, I can’t feel a pulse, but when mine calms, I try again.

She’s alive. Thank Fuck. “Gw-”

Lewis comes up behind me, but I’m done fooling around. I grab the weapon from his hand. While picturing the bat knocking one out of the park, a sharp pain to the back of my head ends the inning, and everything goes black.