“Okay,” Claire mouths the word, her fingers still pressed against the half-assed bandage around Rosie’s neck. “Rose, this is Josey.” Claire grabs one of the guns, hands it to me, and takes the other. She pushes Josey’s hands around Rosie’s throat. “Donotlet her die.”
An automatic gun goes off in the distance, and people scream and cuss and do their best to avoid the crossfire.
Cries of agony ring out, bullets finding their targets.
“I won’t.” He turns to Rosie, pressing his hand against hers. “Keep pressure on that, you hear me?” Josey scoops Rosie into his arms with ease. He gives us one final look. “Stay safe.” And with that, he’s off.
Josey only takes a few large leaps when a man appears from a cloud of smoke, a knife raised over his head. Josey pivots, missing the guy's first attack, but he’s not so lucky on his second. The blade lands in Josey’s upper thigh, nearly dropping him to his knees.
From my crouched position, I aim the gun in my hand, not wanting to waste another second. I pull the trigger, ending the life of the guy who attacked Josey in one fell swoop.
Josey lets out a muffled grunt and, holding Rosie in just one of his arms, pulls the knife out of his leg with the other. He tosses it to the side and takes off running toward the closest exit, disappearing.
Claire steadies herself, drops the magazine from the gun in her possession, examines it quickly and shoves it back in. She inhales, her gaze meeting mine. “Are you ready?”
There was a fierceness about her before, but it’s been replaced with something deeper, something darker, something unstoppable.
There are infinite reasons why I love this girl in front of me, and each day I’m surprised to see more added to the list. The fact that she’s prepared to go, guns blazing, by my side, is more than I deserve, but only continues to make my heart swell for her.
“Let’s end this.” I stand as she does and push my back to hers.
Together, we pivot and scan the room, looking for the one person whose death will end this nightmare.
The swarm has seemed to die down, quite literally. Countless bodies litter the floor, bloodied and tangled together in a sea of death and destruction.
Luckily, it seems Franklin has become too concerned with his potential sudden death to continue his pursuit of us. My only hope is that he wasn’t able to escape when he had the chance.
A loud crack sounds in my ears and smoke flits from the barrel of Claire’s gun.
Her target falls to his knees, then drops over. A straight, clean shot to the temple.
My heart picks up its pace. What have I done? What kind of world have I brought Claire into? Why did I ever think this would end in anything other than disaster?
“Over there.” Claire catches my attention, whipping her pistol toward the largest section of people left standing.
I squint until I see a familiar shape. And then another. And surprisingly, another.
Franklin. Luciano. Miller. Plus, a bunch of people gathered around them, firing their weapons haphazardly.
Two large men rush toward me and Claire, malice on their faces. They bare their teeth and draw their guns.
“Claire,” I spit out while raising my firearm, popping off shot after shot, securing our temporary safety.
The reverberation shakes my wrists, but I refuse to let it steal my attention. The smell of gunpowder and death fills the air.
I dash over and snatch their weapons, tucking one into my pants. “Here.” I toss the other to Claire, which she takes without a second thought.
A commotion flows from the throng in the corner, and Franklin and his goonies bolt from behind their cover and across the room. Luciano steadies his aim, taking out one of Franklin’s guys.
But Franklin’s men manage to eliminate three of Luciano’s.
Rage, unlike anything I’ve ever seen, illuminates Luciano’s stone-cold features. He lets out a battle cry and takes off after his brother, Miller and a couple of others in tow.
Without backup, they’re clearly outnumbered, meaning only one thing.
Franklin is going to win.
I rush toward the chaos, Claire like a shadow behind me.