Edge Of Control: (Viking Dystopian Romance) - Plot & Excerpts
It was when another five assholes poured out of the boat that he got pissed off. Ten was a whole different ballgame. Ten was potentially a problem. Particularly when they swarmed up onto the beach and started tossing Uzis around. Dicks. He held his boulder. He used the dumbass handguns. He even got the fascination with them, to some extent. There were definite advantages to picking off enemies from a distance. The trouble was, these particular enemies shot back. Riordan watched a rock explode a little too close to his face and ducked down lower. He hated guns. Still, he emptied one handgun, taking down three bandits in rapid succession. It was easy—all he had to do was aim for all that glinting, shiny metal. He emptied the second handgun, bringing down another and winging two more. He reloaded the clip on the third and, when he looked out again, the remaining bandits had retreated behind the hull of their crashed boat. One of them starting firing, great blaring bullets that slammed into the sand and made it seem to explode, but all of them seemed to fall short.
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