It had been some time since Killian had practiced throwing knives. Now seemed like a good time to start.
He balanced the open pocket knife in one hand, then let it fly. The blade speared the gunman’s rib cage, jerking the man’s attention away from Bertie and towards the oncoming Killian.
The gunman, dressed nothing like the average person from this century, spun on his heel and snapped a quick shot at Killian. Energy splashed off a pew, reducing a chunk of the wooden bench to burnt splinters. K...
Published on August 10, 2016 09:11