Novel & Cerita Hatchet Summary

Or run? Then Jake remembered Survival Rule #4. [In this world, even common monsters are tough. But every kill drops rich rewards.] With that thought, Jake gritted his teeth and reached for his waist. The hatchet-gun was tucked there—the weapon he'd traded Universal Fuel for earlier. [Name: Hatchet-Gun] [Type: Weapon] [Quality: Common] [Ammo: 3/9] [Description: Melee slashing or ranged shooting. Downside: Massive recoil.] Jake gripped the hatchet-gun's handle. The cold metal against his palm steadied him somewhat.

She murmured. Then the gangsters didn’t stop there, they even wanted to rob her. They approached her and then looked at her drunken face. “Hey, where’s your wallet or phone? Just give that to us.” That someone said. Maddie shook her head. “No! I won’t give it to you!” She then tried to stand up but she fell to the ground. She gasped and wanted to run away from the thugs. “This girl, we will just kidnap you so that we’ll get a reward from your billionaire parents or manager!” The second guy proposed. The first guy agreed. They were about to grab Maddie from behind but someone kicked their backs. “Ack!” They both gaped.

His stomach grew very cold. C. K. Carlton Kretch. Grandpa Carlton’s hatchet. Impossible. He’d seen that hatchet once, when he and Dad and Grandpa and Scott had gone camping last year. Grandpa had let out that maybe someday he’d give the hatchet to Jesse for his birthday . . . Holy. Shit. Jesse stood and clutched the ruined and impossible handle. Everyone else could pretend Scott went crazy and killed himself, but he knew. Somehow, he knew.

She looked like she’d been hit by a truck. Joshua unlocked the deadbolt. "Dani, it’s eleven o'clock. What the f**k?" "Don't 'what the f**k' me, Josh. We have a problem." She pushed past him, her heels clicking like gunfire. She tossed a thick manila folder onto his kitchen table. "The Harrington Pack. Richard Harrington." The name hit Joshua like a physical punch to the gut. He felt the phantom pain of a five-year-old claw mark on his shoulder. "What about them?"

The first to break down was Hatch. He was the only one among the dozens of people who had survived it. It was not because he was powerful but because Chase had specifically kept him alive. He wanted information from Hatch. Chase knew that Hatch must know quite a lot as he had been lying in wait outside the Jameson residence for a long time. Hatch looked like he had seen a ghost as he stared at Chase in disbelief. The young man in front of him was telling the truth. Hatch had seen with his own eyes how that strange power surged from the young man and instantly killed dozens of Hatch's men right in front of him.

Flecks of it rained down on my exposed skin, and the pain hit hard. It was like molten metal pouring into my flesh. My arm throbbed, and every instinct screamed at me to stop—to retreat, to get away—but I couldn’t. Not now. I couldn’t waste a second. I lunged for the knife as it hit the ground, sliding through the snow and grabbing it. In one swift motion, I drove it into the side of his neck. His eyes widened, blood spilling over his lips as he tried to speak, but no words came. I leaned in, twisting the blade deeper.

I swung myself up on the last branch, freezing, before I pulled myself the rest of the way up on it. Scarlett’s journal lay perfectly hidden from the ground between two smaller branches. I carefully picked it up as I settled back against the trunk. I tapped my finger on the cover, debating if I wanted to read it, thus intruding even deeper into her privacy. I knew I shouldn’t, but I needed to know if I was alone in how I felt. I licked my lips as I opened the journal. I spent about an hour scanning the diary, only stopping to thoroughly read the entries where I was mentioned. I slowed when I came to one that was written about two weeks after I left.

The time is now. An array of tools hung from hooks on the wall to my right. I scanned the items slowly, a few rakes, a pickaxe, a couple of crowbars, and some axes. My eyes landed on a hatchet, the blade glinting from the dim light on the roof. It's no Sai blade, but it’ll still get the job done. I took the axe from the hook and tossed it up in front of me. The handle spun in a full three-sixty before landing in my hand again. I sucked my teeth and nodded my head with a newfound sense of determination. Clutching the bloodied pole in one hand and the hatchet in the other, I rolled my shoulders back and sauntered out of the shed.

Then there was that scarf I had stayed up nights knitting for him. I gathered them all up and threw them into the bathtub before lighting a match. The flames roared to life, consuming everything that bore traces of Theodore Scott and Isabella Jenkins' past. Finally, there was our bed. He had carefully chosen it in my favorite color, but now, it just made me sick. I took out scissors and cut it all into pieces. After that, I grabbed a hammer and destroyed every other item in the house that held memories of him. Everything I had once treasured was now in ruins.

"Don't worry dear. You won't be coughing next time. Just wait for the right time to us and you will regret to be born." "Well done to someof my men who keeps these two guys as their punching bag and they can vent the resentment they felt. "Sir, already take care of the mole." Hatch again came back to me. "Good. If you are busy, you can go already." I inform him but he shook his head. "I wanted to watch the live action here when you tried to kill them." Hatch leaned on the wall and started to act like a cool man. Whatever, atleast we get rid one of our enemy.