they were on top of him. And this time, he didn’t have a whole lot to work with to escape them. While he’d made significant progress toward the village that was his objective, he was currently stuck in relatively flat terrain with no rivers nearby. The patch of blue sky above him was shrinking fast, though, suggesting the weather might be turning back in his favor.
No more time for fancy strategies or precision. It was time to pull out the hammer.
He dug the toes of his shoes into the soft earth, putting himself in a position similar to that of a sprinter in a starting block. He wanted to wait until the man against the barn wasn’t looking in his direction, but the strained barking of the dogs suddenly became less frustrated. They’d been turned loose again.
He shot forward, snatching the knife from the first man’s belt and dragging the blade across his throat. The guard near the barn grabbed his weapon and leapt to his feet just as Rapp threw the knife. While it was still in the air, the man caught his foot on something and pitched forward. It changed the range between them just enough that instead of penetrating his chest, the blade hit hilt-first.
Again, Rapp charged, but he was forced to drop and slide when the man got his finger on the trigger. A spray of rounds filled the air over his head as they collided. The guard’s feet went out from under him and they wrestled for control of the weapon. Rapp had nearly gotten into a position to choke him out when he heard something burst from the coca plants behind him. He stopped fighting and let the guard roll on top of him just as the Doberman reached them. The man screamed when it clamped its jaws around his shoulder, and Rapp slid from beneath him as more crashes sounded.
The AK was out of reach and there wasn’t time to go for it. Instead Rapp bolted for the barn with an unknown number of dogs chasing. He sprinted through the door, leapt over some rusting fifty-five-gallon drums, and landed three rungs up a ladder that led to a loft. There was no time to climb, so he just jumped, using his momentum and arm strength to flip himself onto the rickety platform.
At least one dog slammed into the base of the ladder, and Rapp heard the claws of others as they tried desperately to reach him. Rapp immediately got into a position that would allow him to kick any that made it to the top, but, as impressive as they were at moving through the jungle, climbers they were not. Every few seconds, a paw or snout would appear, but then it would disappear again as the dog lost purchase and fell back into the crazed pack.
Once he was reasonably satisfied that none were going to get lucky, Rapp looked around him. No weapons or even respectably sharp farm implements were in evidence. Instead, the space was neatly stacked with duct-tape-wrapped bricks. He ripped one open and tried a small sample of the cocaine he found inside. Apparently Esparza’s botany experiment was succeeding. It was seriously good shit.
Rapp moved back to the edge of the loft and the sight of him got one of the pit bulls excited enough to make the top rung. Rapp kicked it in the side of the head, sending it cartwheeling back into the pack completely unfazed.
He ripped open the kilo brick in his hand and then did the same to a few others. While he was working, two more dogs took a shot at climbing the ladder. Their muzzles, necks, and chests were covered in the blood of the guard they had just torn apart.
All six were now present—enough that they could functionally climb on top of each other to try to get at him. It was an unexpectedly effective strategy and their barking turned deafening as Rapp kicked at them.
There was a brief lull as a falling Rottweiler knocked them back and Rapp took advantage of it to chuck the open kilo bags on top of them. They were momentarily enveloped in an impressive cloud that, when it dissipated, left them all a ghostly white. Predictably, their barking and attempts to get to him increased in intensity. He started to regret the light running shoes he’d chosen as he kicked at them, trying to protect his ankles from fangs coated in foaming saliva.