I thought I was through. In an action adventure movie from my childhood I would have been. In those movies no one got hung up on drywall. No, but I did. It enraged me and I was flailing away when I was hit hard from behind and popped through the drywall. I stumbled in the room and narrowly avoided stumbling over an old copier paper box filled with Christmas decorations. The light in the room went away and came back as quickly as the third man, Rodriquez, passed through the hole.
I looked at them, listened to what I could hear on the other side of the door which was boots running, grabbed the door handle, and hit the hallway, hugging the right side as I did. I had Sword out, my read of the boot heels had them 20 feet down from the door as I went out. My peripheral vision registered Miller taking the opposite side of the hallway giving us both clear lanes while Rodriguez, I knew without looking, was facing the other way behind us covering our backs.
It was funny, the expression on the three Apaches faces, charging down the hall, now maybe 8 paces from us, when they saw us pop out of the door. So funny that I laughed. Then I stepped forward and swung sword overhand and down at an angle catching the lead Apache on the collarbone and slicing down and in. Sword was a Sword 1.0 version which meant it had no groove in the blade. It had a tendency to get stuck when skewering people. Usually only when you needed it not to. So I sliced instead. It was also more fun.
As the blade connected I yelled "Freya!" Let go of Sword, stepped into the lane of the man on my right and kicked him in the balls. Then I drew my right hand Ruger and shot him. The kicking in the balls part could have been skipped but I got more from it than I did from slicing his partner.
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