Clouds of Tyranny Read Online Free PDF

him off, “Don’t shoot,”
choppily whispered Locke. She slowly lowered the weapon to her side
as she realized that there’s a good probability she might kill them
both and that would prevent her from ever escaping this town. Locke
was running short of air and knew that he had to do something, so
he hooked his right foot behind the man’s knee and rolled him over,
suddenly Locke was on top and pounding away on the man’s face with
his elbows and forearms before the imperial got a knee up and
kicked Locke in the chest with his left foot, pushing Locke several
feet away. The man proceeded to reach to his right boot, pulling
out a very compact snub-nosed revolver and pulled the hammer back
as he aimed at Terra with an bloody face of anger directed at her;
she was frozen in fear. Locke laid there on his back watching the
potential murder attempt on Terra; hidden in his belt buckle was a
very small throwing dagger; the blade shaped like a spade. He
pulled the dagger and flung it at the man, piercing the blade into
the man’s jugular causing a lapse of aim. The bullet missed Terra
and flew through the curtain leading towards the kitchen and they
heard glass shatter from within the next room. The man dropped the
pistol next to him and tried to hold the blood inside his throat
when Locke rose to his feet and slowly walked to his victim. Locke
looked down at him, then he kneeled and looked the man in his dying
eyes as he quickly pulled the dagger from his throat; Locke could
feel the resistance attached to the blade, veins and bones
probably, the dagger didn’t want to leave its new home. The man’s
head slammed against the raggedy rug flooring as the blade was
ripped free and turned to the side as Locke could see the man’s
soul vanish from his eyes. He turned to Terra after wiping the
blade clean with the blanket that had kept her warm less than ten
minutes ago, “We should really go,” said Locke. Terra looked at him
as he re-holstered the belt dagger, “Yeah, probably.” She looked at
the gun she was holding that formerly was of empire property,
“Here,” she said as she handed to him. “Hold on to it,” said Locke
as he pushed it back towards her, “I trust you…for now.” Locke
walked towards the front door queuing her to follow; which she did
after retrieving two magazines filled with bullets.
    After exiting through the front door they
made a left to a narrow alley behind Locke’s shack: Terra traversed
first and trotted a good thirty paces and waited for Locke to catch
up. Locke took a deep breath and squeezed himself into the small
crawl space: the metal edge of his safe house grazing against his
puffed stomach. Ahead, he spotted an overhang about shoulder level
at which he and Terra would have to do a kneel-crawl in order to
make it through. He dropped to his knees and pulled himself with
his hands as his legs pushed along the rock-covered ground for
several yards. At last he sensed no restriction above his head and
could finally rise without bumping his head. He planted his right
hand, palm down, against the ground and rose from his knees only to
see a glistening gun pointing at his head. He stared down its
barrel for a few seconds before looking past it to its owner;
Terra. He stared into her face as she shivered; she was frightened
but not afraid to kill. All Locke could do was kneel there and
wait… “What do you want from me?” whispered Terra, “I didn’t do
anything wrong. Why are people trying to kill me?” Locke sat there
with his weight rested on his knees and threw up his hands like a
villain caught in the act, “ I’m not trying to kill you. I’m trying
to save you. Please…trust me.” Terra stood there for many moments
thinking to herself…
    She envisioned the previous day, the last
time she saw her pond and cottage, when the imperials took shots at
her and attempted to apprehend her unprovoked. She stared down at
Locke; his face was of a man with no fear of death but his