Bucky Barnes Knives Novels & Stories

“Good to hear. We will leave tomorrow morning.” Everyone filed out of the conference room except for Chris. He stayed behind, looking at the swords Jackson had created. Chris had admired the fact that Jackson had crafted everything, including the blade. The blade was only sharp on one side, unlike the rest of the swords in the bunker. Each of the blades had a small notch on the front side of the blade to lock it into place when attached.

My weapons lie inside exactly where I left them. A 9mm with custom suppressor. A .45 with a compensator to reduce recoil. A hunting knife with a blackened blade. Extra mags. Flashbangs. EMP tabs. Backup comms. Zip ties. Lock picks. A collapsible crowbar. The tools of a man who solves problems permanently. I run my fingers over the pistols. My name isn’t engraved on them. It’s burned into them. I load the mags with practiced rhythm, the metallic clicks echoing softly off the bunker walls.

I nodded and went to work seeing which one I seemed to have a gift for. I was sweating from every pore on my small body I had found a liking to the short sword and a katana. Blake thought it would be fitting to add some throwing knives. Sarin and Carden were already and Blake was all dressed to the nines for this battle. My brothers were on the far side of the room sheathing their weapons. My body was still flowing with raging angry power therefore my tattoos were a bright healthy glow.

We just passed the 12 weeks mark. “Rissa and Gabe will help you practice and get used to it.” I just nodded and pulled the knife from its sheath. It was beautiful in its own deadly way. I didn’t know shit about knives, but I was sure you can kill pretty easily with a blade like this. “The blade is a high density silver alloy, so don’t cut yourself,” Gabriel chimed in. “I won’t.” I gave him an offended look as I put the blade back and closed the box on it.

Aryn What the fuck was he doing here? My hand, without conscious thought, darted into the small backpack slung over my shoulder. My fingers closed around the cold, hard handle of the utility knife I'd bought at the sporting goods store, a last-minute, desperate impulse purchase. It wasn't a combat knife, just a simple, sharp blade meant for opening boxes or cutting rope, but in that moment, it felt like my only weapon against the terror that was Antonio.

"I've got stock on hand. Swing by anytime." Cyrus did not waste a second. He drove straight to Mt. Barat and loaded up: five steel crossbows, three high-grade compound bows, and 300 arrows and bolts for each. Two Damascus steel hunting knives, razor-sharp and nearly unbreakable, rounded out the haul. They were perfect for close combat. By the time he finished, his trunk was full. The sight filled him with a deep sense of security. With a hunting license already in his name, no one would question it.

Brutal, effective, designed to take on multiple opponents and survive, if somewhat worse for wear. Also he gave me a knife, which seemed irresponsible even to me, a violent juvenile delinquent. It wasn't l like a Bowie knife either, or a survival knife. It was straight, double-edged, with a wickedly sharp point. He called it a "Fairbarn". Later I'd learn that the skills he taught me dated back to world war two. I've never been able to get Billy to tell me where he learned it.

“You have kids at home and another on the way, you are going to live if it’s the last thing I do.” I took off towards the beach, sneaking up to some wolves who had started to unload crates. I jumped in between a group of five closets to the tree line, swinging my arm in a wide arc to take out as many as I could. Three howled in pain as the knife connected, causing their skin to blister and sear at the connection sights.

The sound bounces off the empty booths and hangs in the stale air. Hendrickson doesn’t bother looking up from his drink. He’s locked in a staring contest with the TV, where some infomercial shouts about knives that can cut through steel. He keeps his own knife folded in his shirt pocket, a habit he says he picked up in ’Nam, though every time I press for stories the war moves closer to the Canadian border.

While Gavin took Machine Guns such as bren machine gun,hotchkiss machine gun and MG42 Mag machine gun. Just like Cardo also picked the outstanding Schwarzlose machine gun, an AK-47 and tanto point a dagger class. Kulas took the assault rifle, a 6-inch stainless steel blade Ontario MK-3 Navy Knife and ammunition. "Woahh khez babes you look beautiful and at the same time you're scary"He's laughing at me after he said it to me afterwards he place it carefully. "so I won't bother you anymore"he added and turn to our busy companion.