![]() ![]() Cook grasped his neck, squeezing tight, and took him to the ground, focusing all of his impact, and all of his weight, onto the kid’s throat. “What the fu-” The guard reached for his weapon and his radio at the same time, grabbing neither. Spit flew from his lips as he snarled and leaped, throwing his full body weight onto the soldier. The kid saw him at the last second-a blur of muscles and rage, naked and scowling, teeth bared like the feral creature they thought they’d caged. Cook sprinted toward the sound, following the pattern of footfalls he’d memorized in his sleep, heard day in and day out for years, an endless drone of rubber on metal, clang after clang. No alert to the slow-striding guard, pacing away from Cook. ![]() No alarms and no wailing klaxon for this. Muscles rippled along his back as he moved silently and landed in a crouch. ![]() Cook leaped, grasping the edge of the cell’s opening before pulling himself up and out. ![]()
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