AMIRA by Matthew Betley (feel good books to read .TXT) 📕

As if in unison, dozens of faces turned towards Amira.  “I’m here to rescue you, although to be honest, the hyenas did more of the work than I had to,” she said loudly and clearly.  “Is there anyone here that speaks English and can translate to the others?”

Several men looked at each other, and an older Chinese worker in his late forties stepped forward.  “I understand,” he said in near-perfect English.

“Good,” Amira replied, cutting him off.  “First, do you have any idea how many more rebels there might be?  I killed two near the tanks, two just outside of the door here, the hyenas killed four more, and then we have the six down in here.  I chased one back into the command center.”

“I believe there are two more,” the man replied.  “The leader, who calls himself Omar, and his lieutenant.”

“Okay.  In that case, I need you to gather the weapons from these rebels and stay in here until it’s safe.  I’m going to go take care of the last two and end this.”

There was a shuffling behind her, and several men gasped in horror.

Even though she knew, she turned and faced the matriarch, who stood less than ten feet away, her muzzle dripping blood in large dark droplets.  But even more alarming was the fact that two of the smaller males had silently entered the barracks and stood behind her on each side like royal guards protecting their queen.

Chapter 12

Omar stood in front of a large control panel which occupied the entire back wall.  Computer monitors, keyboards, communication equipment, and workstations sat empty, their operators in the barracks building next door.  The number of machines it took to run a facility like the pumping station was a mystery to Asim, who cared more about life’s necessities such as food, water, clothing, and weapons than he did about technology.  It had been a source of bemusement to Omar, who understood that the rebels had to embrace technology, if only to use it against its creators.

“What’s going on out there?” Omar asked, concern in his voice.  His loose clothing hung around his stocky frame, but he held his AK-47, ready for the fight.

“We’re under attack.  I only saw one of them.  But worse, a pack of hyenas attacked at the same time.  All of our men outside are dead.  The intruder I saw ran into the barracks next door.  Brother, we need to leave immediately.  There have to be more of them, and after our losses, we don’t have a chance.  If we leave now, we live to fight another day.  There is no good outcome if we stay.  South Sudan will be ours soon enough.”

Asim watched as Omar internally processed the information and struggled with himself as to how to respond to the attack.  Asim knew Omar would welcome death if it served a higher purpose, but Asim was certain there was no purpose to be served by remaining.

“Okay.  Let’s get to the jeep,” Omar said finally, and grabbed a set of keys from a rack that had been nailed to the wall next to the door.

The two men exited the command center, and the sounds of combat reached them from the barracks.  Asim reflexively cringed at the two hyenas that continued to consume the corpses of his men.  God look over them, he thought, and turned away.  There was nothing left for him at this accursed pumping station.

Chapter 13

Amira sensed the fear of the men behind her, and she heard movement.  They’ve grabbed the AKs.  “No one open fire.  Anyone who does, I’ll shoot him myself,” she declared clearly and loudly enough for the entire assembled mass of former hostages to hear.  She didn’t want to kill the matriarch or her male protectors unless she had no choice.  The female hyena and her pack had been a force multiplier unlike any other, and she respected the beasts for what they were – like she was – predators and hunters of men. 

She felt her heart pound in her chest as her adrenaline surge continued.  The matriarch lowered its head, its eyes up and locked on Amira’s face.

If that’s what you want, fine.  Amira slowly lowered the pistol and let her arm hang at her side, although she was confident in her speed to reacquire her target if the need arose.  She carefully lifted her left hand, her eyes never leaving the matriarch’s.  She slowly raised the neoprene mask and rolled it up on top of her head, the back still tucked in below her collar.  The men had shrunk back behind her, and she was certain no one could see her face in the gloam.  Here I am.  See what I am, she thought calmly, certain this was the right course of action.

The matriarch raised her head, her bright eyes studying Amira’s face.  Her nostrils flared, as if inhaling the scent of the person in front of her.

Amira felt no fear, and as the seconds ticked by, her confidence grew.  I’m just as much of a killer as you are.  Understand and believe that.  She concentrated, as if willing her thoughts towards the matriarch.  Amira was suddenly aware of herself, the blood on her clothes from the men she’d killed outside, the sweat and dirt on her face.  And she senses it, too.  She knows what you are. 

The matriarch suddenly raised her head and let loose a cry, and the men behind Amira gasped in fear.  The pack leader suddenly turned, barked its unique growl-yelp, and the two males who’d accompanied her turned and bounded for the door.  The matriarch turned her head back to Amira one last time and launched herself towards the entrance.  She loped across the floor, fast and sleek, and disappeared into the night.

A sense of pride