Page 14 of The Darkest Hour

Shit. A hotel guard.

I wiped the blood on my pants. “We need more light so we don’t kill each other.”

Several men came in with phones, lighting the area.

On the ground lay several bodies.

All guards.

Where are you?

More armed men raced into the hallway.

Shouts came from the lobby.

We all ran that way ready to kill this fuck face.

At least twenty men beat me to the lobby, and then the explosion hit next.

Shit!

I jumped to the ground.

Bodies flew in the air.

Flames blazed up the walls.

Wood splintered.

Glass cracked.

Men and women screamed in horror.

And then that fuck face whistled from the hallway.

What? No fucking way!

The killer had never left the hallway.

The noise in the lobby was just a trap.

It was a timed bomb, triggered by his whistles.

That’s why he’s whistling so much. Goddamn it!

Someone shouted outside. “He’s here! I see him!”

The remaining guards ran out the door with their guns in the air.

The next whistle came from the hallway.

“No. He’s not out there!” I waved my hands around. “It’s a trap—”

A bomb exploded.

And then more blasts sounded.

Defeated, I dropped my hand to my sides.