Deluge (The Best Thrillers Book 2) James Best (best e book reader .TXT) 📖

swiveled around to examine the other direction when he heard automatic gunfire come from the Right Bank.

Damn! They were in the middle of a terrorist attack.

He pulled Baldwin below the stone railing.

People ran. People screamed. Evarts heard glass shatter, horns blasting, and the crash of metal against metal as cars slammed on their brakes or hit the gas. Tranquility had instantly turned into chaos.

Soon, their alcove started to fill with people trying to escape the hail of bullets. This was a two-pronged attack. One or more terrorists on the Left Bank had done something to chase people toward gunman on the Right Bank.

Evarts thought fast.

If the gunmen marching across the bridge had plenty of ammunition, they would soon reach their bastion. He heard three or four automatic rifles. He wasn’t going to wait to be murdered.

“We’re going away from the gunfire!” Evarts screamed over the noise.

Baldwin immediately nodded.

Holding hands, they scurried around the perimeter of the bastion until they were on the edge that led toward Left Bank.

He waited until he heard the gunfire lighten. At least some of the shooters were changing magazines.

He yelled, “Now!”

They ran as if the Devil himself was behind them. After a couple of strides, Evarts pulled his wife in a weaving pattern. He was scared. He became more frightened when he heard all the guns start up again. As he ran, he scanned the bridge in front of him. People were panicked. They stopped running away from whatever was behind them but couldn’t make the decision to reverse course. Most fell to the ground or dove toward one of the bastions. None ran with him. What was he heading toward?

As his visibility up the bridge walkway cleared, he gasped. Ahead were two blood covered men wielding curved swords. He scanned the area between him and the nearest terrorist. No weapons. Not a rock or brick or even an umbrella. He let go of his wife’s hand and never broke stride as he picked up a selfie-stick. He collapsed the stick and ripped off the swivel end as he ran.

The nearest terrorist charged, screaming Allahu Akbar.

Evarts feinted a block with the selfie-stick, but then veered and ducked under the swing of the sword. He thrust the selfie-stick upward into the throat of the terrorist. Evarts felt the jagged, broken end dig deep into the terrorist’s neck. As both hands went to his throat, the terrorist dropped the sword.

The second assailant came fast, sword held high for a killing blow. Too fast for Evarts to pick up the discarded sword. He braced his legs to jump to the side when he heard his wife yell.

“Arrête ou je tire!”

The harsh scream carried all the authority of a policeman. The command to stop or I’ll shoot worked. The second terrorist turned and started to charge her until he saw no weapon in her hand.

He returned his attention to Evarts. Too late. Evarts had retrieved the sword from the ground and had already begun his swing.

Evarts used every muscle in his body as he slashed a crosscut against his opponent’s body. The downward driving force ripped through the upper ribs on a slant and almost came out at the hips.

He didn’t hesitate. He gabbed Baldwin’s hand and ran like hell for the Left Bank.

Thank You

Thank you for reading Deluge. If you enjoyed Deluge, please write a review, otherwise mum’s the word.

Also by James D. Best

The Shopkeeper

Leadville

Murder at Thumb Butte

The Return

Jenny’s Revenge

Crossing the Animas

No Peace

Tempest at Dawn

Principled Action, Lessons from the Origins of the American Republic

The Shut Mouth Society

Deluge

The Templar Reprisals

The Digital Organization

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