47- 2x4

  The van and cement truck were still there. The men were not in sight, but I heard them laughing on the other side of the truck. Probably having a smoke or a drink and celebrating. I trudged over to an area where stacks of lumber and bricks were covered by plastic tarps. I found a two-by-four the length of a baseball bat.

  That would do.

  I couldn’t move very quickly because of the goop all over me. It was already starting to settle and dry. Nevertheless, I plodded over to the truck and listened.
...

  I stepped out in front of them. I must have been an awful sight. One man screamed, and another yelled the F-word. I raised the two-by-four and brought it down hard on the guy called Frank, who had the sense and reflexes to go for his gun.

  The sound of his skull cracking was very, very loud.

  The guy they called Mac tried to bolt. I stuck my leg out and tripped him. By then I was already swinging the two-by-four at the third man. He tried to duck, but he wasn’t quick enough. The wooden club glanced off the top of his head but didn’t do much damage. Mac started to crawl away, but I slammed my boot on top of his back, pinning him down. At the same time, the face of the guy who’d ducked was even with my elbow, so I jabbed it into his nose. He yelped and fell back against the cement truck, giving me ample time to level the two-by-four and swing it at him as if his head were a curveball.

  Finally, I directed my full attention to Mac, the truck driver. He didn’t seem to be a guard; he had no weapon. Just a worker assigned the wrong duty at the wrong place and at the wrong time.

  That wasn’t an excuse.

  I raised the club as if I were chopping wood. Brought it down. He stopped squirming soon enough.

- Hitman: Damnation, chapter 23