“From whom?”
“Fuck if I know,” the younger guard mutters. He’s clearly rattled, but trying not to show it.
Before I can ask a follow-up question, I hear another tirade of gunshots and raised voices. The guards talk back and forth between themselves as if I’m not even here.
“Fuck! They’re coming.”
“What should we do?”
“If we lose the girl, the boss will have our heads.”
The younger guys looks to his buddy incredulously. “We might die before then.”
Just then, the door is kicked open. Both guards fall scrambling backwards. I manage to jump out of the way just in time to see an armed man storm into the room. His eyes are fixed on my guards, so he barely notices me.
I slip into the corner of the room, close to the wardrobe, and cower behind it.
The guards raise their guns and prepare to shoot, but the man who just entered moves with scary precision as he takes aim and fires off the first shot.
The younger guard collapses back against the carpeted floor with a bullet in his forehead. He was right—he was dead long before he had to worry about his boss’s wrath. I avoid looking at his face as I move quietly against the wall of the room until I make it almost all the way to the door.
The killer is still focused on the second guard. He hasn’t noticed me yet. But the second guard is facing me. His eyes bulge as he sees me reach for the doorknob. I’m so close. If I can just slip through the crack…
The guard eyes me just past the bulk of the man who stormed in and started firing. Don’t say anything, I beg silently. I’m twisting the knob slowly, slowly, slowly…
“The girl!” croaks the second guard. His finger jabs out at me.
The killer turns.
Raises his gun.
I wrench the door open and dive through it.
Just before he makes the second killing shot, I rush through the door.
BOOM! At the same time that I hit the floor outside, there’s another gunshot. I don’t know who fired. Who’s dead. I closed my eyes at some point during my leap to freedom, and as I open them now and look down, I half-expect to see my lifeblood surging out through a hole in my chest.
But it wasn’t me. I didn’t get hit.
And I’m not waiting around to see who did.
I scramble to my feet and rush through the house. My only goal is to get to Kian as quickly as possible. As I run, the sounds of ongoing fighting erupt from every wing and every corridor.
I have to peek around every corner before I sprint past to make sure I’m not wandering into a firefight. Half the time, I have to double back and hide in a room or behind a piece of furniture as armed men hurry past. But somehow, I manage to get to the second floor without being noticed.
“Napravit'sya na vostok!” the man in front barks.
Something occurs to me suddenly as I duck behind an ugly green sofa while another squadron of soldiers storms past me. That sounded a lot like… Russian?
What the hell?
I don’t have time to puzzle out the mystery. As soon as the men are gone, I move down the broad corridor. I only have to clear the foyer now. That’ll take me to the main entrance. From there, I just need to get to the warehouse next door.
I hear another gunshot, and plaster myself against the wall. I can see the front door from here, but once I step out of the corridor, it’s open space. There’s no way to hide. There’s also no other way to leave the house from this wing.
Guess I’ll have to chance it.
I’m about to make a run for it when the main door is pushed open and two people walk through. I stop short, hoping that desperation isn’t making me see things.