“No car in the driveway, they’re away.”
No one’s home. Maybe he chose this house on purpose so there would be no civilian casualties.
“Will take them a minute before they see us. We can —”
Wood splinters as a car plows straight through the wooden fence and heads straight toward us. I scream. Dario pulls the trigger and shoots the driver in the forehead. The car careens past us and crashes into the back fence.
Three men jump out of the car.
There’s nowhere to go. There’s nowhere to hide. A sick feeling roils in my belly.
“Hands up,” a cold, oily voice says in our direction. I blink in surprise and stifle a whimper. Three men wearing ski masks and all black stalk toward us, unhurried, as if they know we’re cornered and there’s nothing we can do about this. “Who the fuck are you? You ain’t Mullet.”
Gray Mullet. Ha, as if Gray would’ve fought them off like this.
Dario is not going to surrender. He shoves me behind a metal bulkhead as he pulls the trigger. I fall to the ground as they shoot back at him. One falls, the second, the third. I watch in shock, crouched behind the bulkhead as bodies fall to the ground like clay pigeons in a shooting game. It’s inhuman. I’ve seen one shoot-out in my life and heard plenty of stories. No one can shoot this many without getting shot himself.
I will kill Sergio for not teaching me to shoot, and as soon as I get free again— and I will get free—I’m gonna learn how to defend myself.
They’re dead. They’re all dead.
We’re… free?
“Stay right there.” Dario doesn’t look at me but scans our surroundings. I’d be a fool not to listen to him.
I lay as still as a corpse. I hear him traipsing across the yard as he looks for a way out. Sirens wail behind us. Of course. We don’t have much time. The cops will come, identify the car and probably Gray’s body…
“This way.”
I stand and follow Dario, which isn’t hard to do since he grabs my hand almost painfully and yanks me to a gate. “Bulkhead’s locked and they’ll expect us to go there.”
“Who?” I whisper.
“I counted twelve after us. I killed nine. There’s three more.”
My palm feels sweaty in his. I don’t know what’s gonna happen next or how I’m going to get out of this, but I know my only chance of surviving is following the lead of the guy that just hosed down nine guys single-handedly.
“You’re a good shot,” I whisper.
“Served ten years in the military,” he says, without a touch of pride in his voice. Matter-of-fact. “Comes in handy in my present line of business, too.”
Something whizzes past me and almost hits my ear. There’s a sizzling sound and a blare of orange flame against the dark sky.
“Watch it!”
Dario shoves me down to the ground and covers me with his body. Smoke permeates the air around us so badly I’m choking.
Wood splinters. Gunshots ring. Dario heaves himself off me so he can shoot again, but blood pours from a wound on his head. He blinks, trying to clear his vision, then pulls the trigger. No one falls.
“There they are.” An unfamiliar voice. Dario won’t get off of me as if he can protect me by smothering me beneath his massive frame. I still have to breathe to stay alive, and we’re surrounded. One gunshot and he’s dead.
Apparently, they don’t want us dead.
It takes three men to disarm Dario and haul him off of me, and it takes them a long time since he fights like mad. But in the end, even a huge former military Rossi man can’t singlehandedly take down three heavily armed combatants without a weapon.
Someone reaches for me. Dario curses. A prick of something painful presses against my neck. My vision blurs. I’m aware of Dario screaming and kicking. Dimly, I’m aware that he’s incapacitated one and the second and third are injured.
We could still escape, I think to myself, as my eyelids grow too heavy.
We…
Could…
I succumb to the darkness.
* * *