S2 S2 : 🔳 WL 🔳 (Ch. 138)

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I watched as the platinum blonde Russian finally reached his limit with me; he brought out a knife from his back pocket and extended the blade outwards.

"Govori, myshka. (Speak, little mouse)."

Holy, hell. Think, think!

"I'm American! No Russian!"

He was going to take a step closer, but his foot stilled when he heard my voice.

"American." He repeated the word with a thick Russian accent.

Finally, we're getting somewhere! Before more words could be exchanged between us, the front door of the apartment room was swung open by a heavy foot. No one was able to make any kind of move or say anything when a bullet went through the Russian's skull.

He didn't even have a chance to pull out a better weapon. American: one; Russian: zero. Mack came inside the room fully, lowering his handgun at the sight of me.

"Took you long enough!" I shouted at him, feeling a metallic taste run across my tongue.

Russian must've busted the skin inside my mouth when he slapped me across the face. Once Mack rushed in, Addy was right behind him. She slammed the door shut, pressing her body against the wood.

The reason why she did that began to pound against the room's door with no mercy. Fast Zs. How many did they attract?

"How many?" I questioned while Mack got in front of me.

He didn't have time to check out the head wound I knew he saw. Instead he got out his own knife and cut through the rough material wrapped around me like a hungry snake.

"Mack!" Addy warned him, having to press her shoulder against the egress for better leverage.

"I'm hurrying!" Mack replied back, snapping at the person he had never snapped at before.

As soon as my ankle was freed from the grasp of the thick fabric--which was also the last limb--I put my hand on his shoulder to stop him from moving too fast. I need to say this to him.

When I had his full attention, I did it quick, "Thank you."

I wasn't completely over what he did to us, but he did just save my ass for the first time in months. His smile was big, but the fists pounding on the doors were a bit more attention-grabbing.

"Come on!"

Mack grabbed my hand, helping me move away from the chair I was once trapped against. We ran over to the door that connected this room to the next one. With one hard kick, the door became practically useless when it came to locking it.

We ran through the open frame and back into the hallway with more Zs than I could count right behind us.

"Stay in between us!" Mack ordered, knowing I had been stripped from all of my weapons, including the gun he had given me.

As I jogged and they shot the undead, I noticed a flash of metal in his back pocket. Hastily, I grabbed the weapon from his pocket, flipping the switchblade out. Okay, I can deal with this. Mack gave me a side-eye look before continuing his clearing.

Switchblades became our thing since we were young, because of our father's fondness of them. Plus, we all knew I was better with a blade than a gun. Mack moved past a room too quickly, missing the undead that now launched itself at me because of Mack's provoking presence.

With one quick jab to the brain, it was falling down my body. It's time for it's final stage of death. We continued onward, mercing as many as we could while trying to save our own skins. Mack made an unexpected sharp turn to the left, surprising me at the sudden move.

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