Grit and Grace: A Metal and Men Novella (Metal and Men Series Book 1) Read Online Free PDF Page A

doesn't matter anyway. Takes more'n smarts to be a decent hunter. Takes a certain…"
    I moaned, and doubled over. My eyes drifted out of focus. Blood from my arm soaked the front of my shirt and dripped onto the floor.
    "Hell," said Charlie. "I never liked you uppity eggheads." He stepped forward, raised the knife and—
    I charged forward, shouldering Charlie in the gut and lifting him off the ground. The floor shook with a thunderous crash. New waves of heat flowed over us. I stumbled, tripping and crashing us into a shelf.
    His knife plunged into my back, sending new waves of warm not-pain rippling through my body. In one motion, I drew my own knife and slashed it across his belly.
    With a surge of strength, I slammed him to the floor. He clutched his gut while I stood tall.
    A chuckle grew on its own in my belly. "It takes a certain what, Charlie? Toughness? Perseverance? What were you saying?"
    He reached for his gun, but I stomped it out of his hand.
    "Tenacity? What was it?" The floor seemed to sway, and I couldn't tell if it was another explosion or my own blood loss.
    I grabbed his arm, yanking him around onto his belly. Blood poured from my arm, spraying the shelves and drenching Charlie. Darkness threatened to swallow my vision, but I pinned Charlie and held him. Blood loss was going to do me in soon if I didn't act fast.
    "You're done," I said. "Give up and I'll let you live. Hunter's honor."
    He responded with a dull chuckle.
    "Say you give up, Chuck." My arms were numb—not the non-pain of augmented senses, but the empty nothing of nerves gone dead. My limbs felt like someone had replaced the muscles with a fine batch of jerky.
    "Moral ambiguity," Charlie said in a choked voice. "Guess… Guess you got it."
    "Say you give up," I said. "Say you..."
    That's about when I passed out.
     
     
     
    I woke in a dozen centimeters of tepid water that stank like stale beer and old bread. My fingers ran across a coarse texture underneath the water, like a carpet. Darkness pressed in all around, but I got the feeling I was in a small room. My back was pressed haphazardly against something that felt like a padded leather chair. A chair sounded like a good idea in my sluggish brain.
    Moving was a terrible, terrible mistake. Waves of pain tore through my body, starting in my back and rolling outward to my limbs, then starting in my arms and spiking into my core. I sucked air through gritted teeth and closed my eyes.
    Turning off pain is always a bad idea. Pain is how the body tells its owner when damage is being done. It tells a person when to slow down and when to stop. Mine had been off when I fought Charlie. He'd damn near killed me, and I hadn’t slowed down. My not-obsolete-thank-you-very-much nannies could repair damage to my body, but it took time and the pieces had to all be present and accounted for. The pieces had to be in the right place too. Cut skin needed to be stitched. Broken bones needed to be set.
    With my left hand I probed the damage on my right arm. To my surprise, there were bandages. The bone had been splinted into place.
    What had happened? Flashes of memory played out under my closed eyelids. There was an explosion, and fire. The truck had crashed. Charlie had shot me, but I'd fought.
    I opened my eyes.
    Damping pain was always a mistake.
    I turned off my pain and stood.
    This wasn't done yet.
    My toes squished in the slime of old water as I sloshed forward to the door. It was open just a crack, and there was a tiny amount of light coming through. I gently pulled the door open and peered out into the hall. My eyes had adjusted to the darkness, but everything came to me in grays and blacks. The world was silent but for the sound of running water. To the right was a narrow stair leading up. A steady stream of water flowed from the ceiling above the stairs, drenching the wall and adding to the water on the ruined floor.
    To the left was an open door to a small auditorium. The girl was there.
    Lena lay