Jack Reacher Killing Floor の小説・ストーリー

He pressed the button for the Ground Floor. The descent was smooth. The silence was deafening. Jack checked his revolver. Six rounds. He checked the detonator in his pocket. One button. He closed his eyes and focused on the Entropy in his arm. It was humming, eager, hungry. Let us out, it whispered. "Soon," Jack replied. The digital display ticked down. 10... 5... 2... 1. Ding. The doors opened. The lobby was unrecognizable. The marble was shattered. The waterfall was dry. Bodies of mercenaries and wolves lay scattered where Marcus had fought.

I didn't think I'd ever cared this much about my life, but getting brutally murdered in a psychopath's home that I may have or may have not willingly walked into wasn't exactly a prideful way to die. Bam! A wack came to the top of the table, and I swallowed my heart and everything else that functioned inside of me. I could see his legs from the little space where I was crouched. He was so close to me. That was how I knew it was his fist he slammed against the table so hard. "This is…not happening!" His voice rang through the walls of the quiet room. "No, not again! This is not happening again!" Another hit followed, and the table shook like it was going to crumble.

That for the third time in a row, in this god forsaken killing game, where no one can make it out alive, I had to kill the person who killed Risa.

The southern assassins hadn’t come to steal or threaten—they’d come to destroy everything Rhett had built. I could still hear fighting deeper inside. I followed the sound, heart pounding, until I reached the lower floor. A group of attackers had cornered three of our younger guards. I didn’t think twice. I fired at them, hitting two clean in the chest before throwing my knife into the third. When the silence finally settled again, I stood there breathing hard, surrounded by bodies. The smell of smoke and iron filled my lungs. My mind wouldn’t stop flashing back to the flash drives—to Killian, sitting alone in a cell waiting to die for a crime he never committed.

TEN Jack sprinted through two places at once. One was the dense Australian bush with its brambles and knots. The second was the room in which he’d killed the driver’s father. He could see, clearer than the dwindling day itself, the ugly carpet lining the living room floor and the old man beneath him as he bent down to bite off his lips. They came off with such ease. A scream. Coppery blood in his mouth. Euphoric victory. It was surprising how long it took to kill him. The human body was programmed to fight; a self-defeating trait, considering that in the end it was destined to give up the ghost. Given this, Jack found enjoyment in assisting someone fulfill his destiny.

I warm myself enough to stop shaking and I find myself fatigued from my shivers. I feel for a door, a window, a lock, something to confirm my entry-and highlight my exit. I find nothing on the floor or walls. Is it on the ceiling? I stand on my tip toes as my fingertips graze the ceiling. I find grooves that create the shape of a square. That must be my exit.

He leaped off the 102nd floor, diving into the storm. For a split second, he was weightless. The ground was thousands of feet below. As he fell past The Harvester’s position, mid-air, Jackson twisted his body. Time seemed to slow down. The lightning flashed. The Harvester turned his head, surprised to see a human flying past him. Their eyes met. Jackson raised his gun. The target was the cracked crystal on the alien's chest. "Get off my planet," Jackson whispered. He pulled the trigger. BANG.

A final act of rebellion. It was then that I made my choice. Valerie just grins at me and shakes her head. With a final, agonizing twist in the head, I silenced Valerie forever. The place fell into an eerie stillness, the truth hanging heavy in the air. Now I know how it feels like to kill someone for revenge. As I stepped back, my heart was heavy with the weight of the lives lost and the sacrifices made. I knew there was no turning back. I’ve killed someone. I’ve sacrificed a few of my pack members just to obliterate and crush every Rogue.

The unborn baby hasn't committed any crime, so it was also his child, right? I don't know what else to say, but if anything happens to Grace, I'd fucking curse God and kill my fucking self. I blow off their heads like they were nothing because they were actually nothing to me. All I cared about now was Grace. I wanted to see her, to fucking have her with me again. “Don, if you can, search for his right-hand man. He should know where Raymond is” Jack said to me through the ear device. I made my way into the mansion as my men turned the mansion red. I love these men, they showed no mercy and killed quickly. It was like their guns were attached to their hands, they didn't miss at all. Their wea

Two massive wolves crashed into the Reapers on the left. I sprinted toward the right. The Reapers raised their weapons. I slid across the polished floor. I fired my pistol. Bang. Bang. I hit the first Reaper in the visor. The glass shattered. He went down. The second Reaper fired a beam of energy. It scorched the floor inches from my head. I rolled. I slashed his leg with my knife. I severed the tendon. He fell. I finished him with a bullet to the neck. The third Reaper grabbed me. He lifted me up. He was strong.