Un2Dead (Book One of the Un2Series)
Chapter Thirty

“Are you fuckin’ crazy? There is no way in hell I’m ever gonna do that!” Wit backed toward the koi tank with his hands up.

“Do you have a better plan?”

“I’m fine with ‘the plan’ part of the plan! It’s what you are asking me to do now I’m finding hard to swallow! Just put that thing down!”

Joey slid the blade forward in his hand, urging the hilt of the sword closer to Wit. “Take it! If you don’t do it, they will know we talked.”

“I am not going to chop off your head!”

“If all goes as planned I will be fine, but none of it will work if they suspect we talked!”

Wit turned away from the sword like a kid refusing to eat broccoli.

“Fine! I’ll do it myself!”

Joey scanned the room for the proper beheading equipment. The best option he had was already in his hand. He turned the sword sideways and held the blade in his teeth. Grabbing the arm of the leather wing back chair he dragged it beside the sofa, leaving them a shoulder’s width apart. Wit remained facing the koi, unaware of what Joey was doing.

“Danny, this is happening whether you help me or not. You are going to have to put the furniture back into place and put me back by the tank. Are you listening to me?”

Wit remained silent.

“Just know that I’m sorry for any grief I have caused your family. I never meant for any of this to happen. I love you guys.” The steel from the blade clicked against Joey’s teeth.

Wit’s heart sank. “Don’t be ridiculous Joey! No!”

Wit turned just in time to see Joey throwing himself toward the gap in the furniture. The sword caught the arms of the sofa and the chair simultaneously, driving the blade toward the back of his mouth, widening his smile and slicing off his uvula. The sword stopped abruptly as it encountered his spine. Joey hung swaybacked between the furnishings. Wit fell to his knees before him.

“Aw, Joey, what have you done?” Wit brushed back Joey’s hair to see his face.

“A lil elp,” Joey said with a mouthful of steel. He motioned to Wit to smack him on the back of the head.

“I am not going to help you! As a matter of fact. . . .” Wit ran over to the koi tank, scooped up water in his cupped hands and threw it at Joey.

The mystical liquid splashed against the side of Joey’s face causing the gash to heal and his flesh to seal itself around the blade.

“Augh!” Wit and Joey yelled in tandem.

Joey pushed against the floor and tried to stand but the blade had wedged into the arm of the couch. An intense pain shot through his head causing him to turn and his fangs to drop. The sword became firmly locked in place. He had no leverage. Struggle as he might, he could not manage to stand.

“Finish this!” Joey growled through clenched teeth. He glanced up at Wit, who was visibly perturbed by the current situation. Joey stopped struggling. He gestured for Wit to come back and kneel beside him.

“Danny, please do this. You have to trust me. I’m begging you.”

“What if I fail? What if I screw up like so many times before?”

“I’m willing to risk it. I have faith in you.”

Joey reached out and patted Wit on the knee. Wit took a slow, deep breath as he rose to his feet. After giving some thought to his next task, he walked over to the bookcase and pulled out the largest book he could find. Before he could give the matter anymore thought he raised the book over his head, approached Joey and slammed it against the back of his skull. Joey’s body broke free from the sword and fell face first onto the floor. Wit tossed the book onto the couch. He stood over his best friend hoping he had the strength to carry out their plan. He pried the sword from the arm of the sofa and used it to sever the reconnected tissue on Joey’s face. Wit returned Joey to his slumped position in front of the koi tank. The ancient fish watched as Wit replaced the book and wing-backed chair. He wiped the sword clean and slid it back into its scabbard alongside the armor. He examined the ornate design on the breastplate and wondered how something so beautiful could cause him so much misery. A loud clank and a rumbling in the floor signaled the approach of his captors. Wit took a seat on the sofa and waited.

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