I was able to catch a glimpse of where Anthony was because of the shadow coming off of the sheet screen in front of me. It was dark, but I could see that he was raising something long, and probably sharp over my head and pulling it back slowly, like a bow.

I planted my foot as hard as I could into the carpet and rocked back. I felt the hard back of the chair drive into Anthony’s stomach before I rolled myself and the chair sideways down onto the floor.

The first thing I saw from my new vantage point on the stained carpet was a kitana-style sword flying down towards my face. The sketchy kind you might see in a gas station or smoke shop in a small town.

The blade of the trashy sword flashed right past my eyes. I swore I felt the thing graze my nose before it landed next to me, right between Anthony’s big dumb mug and my shoulder.

Not wasting a second, I rolled myself over to the sword and pinned it between my elbows. Using all of the diminished strength I had left in my body, I slashed the sword over at Anthony as he tried to work his way to his feet.

“Chill out,” Anthony yelled just as a better idea of what to do with the sword rolled into my head.

I pulled the sword back to me, blade side up and then dropped my wrists down on it with the blade hitting the heart of the zip tie that shackled my hands.

“No!” Anthony screamed as I readied my now free hands around the handle of the sword and aimed it at him.