The Noah Redford Adventures!
Chapter 12: Animal in the Trap
This was not some lone watchman coming to check on Luther. This was a hoard. The mess of voices played liked a thunderstorm of destruction. It reminded Noah of that chaotic death-buzz that ran louder than a freight train outside of his cockpit. It wasn’t just their voices. It was the locking and loading of heavy-duty steel weapons. These men were brining an inescapable death and they were close.
Noah’s heartbeat filled his head. Each desperate pump sent a greater pressure to his overloaded brain. Fire from a horrible headache rushed to burn the nightmare scenarios that were mutating into a more vivid state. All his strength came together for one survival effort. One ferocious attempt at breaking his shackles.
That trapped arm turned a grotesque purple. Bone splitting and tendon crushing pain amplified. Soon Noah Redford could see nothing but the blood starting for form and drip from around the shackle. He could hear nothing but his drumming heart-rate.
Blood grew thicker and darker as Noah struggled. Using his good hand, he reaffirmed his grip on the chain. Torment ignited in the pulling, grinding, rip of his flesh against the unwavering shackle. There simply was not enough strength within Redford. That agony grew to a fever pitch and before he realized it, a primal roar of pain escaped his ragged lungs.
Noah Redford froze. He sucked one final breath in and held it. Listening for the repercussions, he heard the clatter of boots coming down a metal staircase. Fast, fast, fast they moved. One man after the other in what sounded like a hurry. They sounded dangerously close too. Maybe forty yards, if Noah had any luck on his side.
Luck was not with him as he gave another savage pull on the chain. No luck until he heard it. A little shift of wood, a slight crackle of the post holding him. Noah turned toward the growing sound of footsteps. He heard one man give a command to ready their weapons. Turning back, Noah put both arms around the post and tugged his weight back. He yanked and tugged.
All the while he heard moans and cracks from the wood, but it did not yield. Those men were louder and closer. Nothing but twenty yards between them and the room Noah was in. The room where he stood trapped and entirely vulnerable.
Noah pulled and pulled before ramming, shoulder first, into the post. Crashing into it like a football player. It crackled once again. Repeating this process as a frenzied pace, Noah began to see the splintering, he could see the tilt and lean of the post. But he could also see the group of men rushing toward the door.
With the desperation of an animal who gnaws their own leg off to escape a trap, Noah dropped his weight low and cocked his arm back. Using all of his rage and love and desire to live, Noah let that punch fly. It roared through the air before smashing into its target. Both Noah’s hand and the post exploded on impact. A long crack zigzagged its way up the length of the post and with one last football style tackle, the post came down. Noah was free and the men were at the door.
“Shoot him!” One shouted.
Continue to the next chapter... https://www.narrative-compass.com/post/fire-on-the-water-chapter-13-a-thrilling-men-s-adventure-pulp-fiction-series
Disclaimer:
Dear Readers, please note that the chapter you've just enjoyed is a raw, unedited draft and has not yet undergone professional editing. It is part of my bi-weekly serialized release, and I appreciate your understanding if you come across any errors. The final, polished version of this adventure will be compiled and edited professionally by my lovely editor, Robin Seavill before its official release. Thank you for your patience, and I hope you continue to join me for the unfolding excitement in the upcoming installments of The Noah Redford Adventures: Fire on the Water.
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