Chapter 8 - The Hunt
I followed the blood trail into the thick, freezing rain of the forest.
Julian was right behind me, his weapon raised and his eyes scanning the treeline.
"He dragged Leo this way," I whispered, pointing to the crushed ferns and crimson drops on the leaves.
The storm howled around us, masking the sound of our footsteps as we hunted my uncle.
We reached a clearing where an old, rusted logging cabin stood rotting in the rain.
Through the broken window, I saw the flickering light of a flare.
Vincenzo was inside, holding Leo by the throat, a heavy machete pressed against my brother's neck.
"Back off, Dominic!" Vincenzo screamed into the storm, his composure completely shattered.
"I have a helicopter inbound! If you step inside this cabin, I will take his head off!"
I stepped out from behind the trees, letting the rain wash the blood and ash from my face.
"There is no helicopter, Vincenzo," I called out, my voice cutting through the wind.
"Julian jammed all communications within a ten-mile radius."
Vincenzo’s eyes darted wildly, realizing he was utterly trapped.
"I am still the Don!" he shouted, though his voice cracked with panic.
"I am your blood!"
I walked slowly toward the cabin, tossing my rifle onto the muddy ground.
"You lost the right to call yourself blood when you put a hit on a child," I said coldly.
I drew the hunting knife from my belt.
"Let him go, and I will let you fight me like a man."
Vincenzo looked at my empty hands, then at the heavy machete in his own grip.
Greed and arrogance flared in his eyes.
He shoved Leo hard to the floor and stepped out onto the porch, swinging the machete in a wide arc.
"I taught you how to fight, boy!" Vincenzo spat, charging at me.
He swung the massive blade aimed directly for my neck.
I ducked under the heavy steel, feeling the wind of the blade graze my hair.
I drove my knee viciously into his ribs, hearing the bone snap with a sickening crunch.
Vincenzo stumbled, wildly swinging the machete again, catching my left arm and slicing a deep gash near my elbow.
I ignored the searing pain, stepping inside his guard.
With one brutal, practiced motion, I buried my hunting knife deep into his chest.
Vincenzo gasped, the machete dropping from his trembling hands.
He fell to his knees in the mud, staring up at me with wide, shocked eyes.
"You... you are just like your father," he choked out, blood spilling from his lips.
"No," I whispered, twisting the blade. "I am worse."
Vincenzo collapsed, dead before his face hit the mud.
May you like
I pulled Leo to his feet, holding my bleeding arm, ready to finally end this nightmare.
Suddenly, a massive spotlight flicked on from the sky, blinding us completely as a police helicopter hovered directly overhead, heavily armed SWAT teams rappelling down into the clearing.
