We don’t make it to the end of the side corridor. A bang echoes in my head so loudly I can hear it reverberate through my bones. A stillness settles over the air, and then all the strength of the body hauling me away disappears. The wall of his chest falls back, and he drops to the ground. I look at Jon, shocked, and turn to the floor behind me to see a dark bullet wound in the middle of his forehead. Blood leaks from the crater and trickles along his skin.
“Don’t fucking fight me, Gabby,” Jon snaps, all warmth gone from his voice. “Stick to me like glue, or you’ll end up dead. You got that?” He stares at me with cold hard eyes, and I realise how stupid I’m being as I fall in line behind him, refusing to feel bad for the guy lying dead behind me. My bottom lip quivers as I suck in a few breaths and try to keep a hold on the war of confused emotions going on inside of me.
I follow him like a puppy, desperate to keep up with him and not make a foolish mistake again. If Nate really is here, he won’t leave my brother. We’ll find him eventually. Hopefully.
We pause outside of the doorway that led me to this nightmare. There’s a gap in the shooting and I can only imagine what I’ll see if I step through the door.
“Stay low and for fuck’s sake, don’t try anything stupid again.” Jon’s right back to business. He crouches and dips his head around the entrance for a split second, one arm back to brace me against the wall. Then he’s on the move and so am I, determined that I can get through this. One step at a time.
One step at a time.
He pauses behind a stack of crates, so I do what I said I would and keep my head down, focused on staying close to him. He huffs, head flicking left to right, gun still aimed into the room.
“We need to get across there,” he mutters, still searching for access through the sounding bullets. My hands cover my ears as the shots firing echo in the cavernous space, and I lift my eyes to see two men crouched down like us, twenty or so feet away. They’re shooting into the room, swinging their arms around the pallet loader and firing without giving us any room to run
Three bodies lie motionless around them. I look past Jon at the way we came in and scattered on the floor are more bodies. A steady pulse of bangs comes from somewhere, up high maybe, but I can’t see the source. The rhythm of firing pauses then speeds up, cracking in quick succession as I keep covering my ears at the intensity. When it stops, I peer around the edge of the crate, but Jon knocks me back, shaking his head at me and motioning for me to stay low.
“Moving,” he shouts, to whom I don’t know. “Follow. We need more cover.” He stands and heads straight across to where I saw two men shooting a moment ago. I scramble to follow and keep a hand on his back while trying to fit my body behind his. Two shots, then a third, and the men who were shooting join the body count lying out on the floor. “Nearly there, Gabby. Keep moving.”
We don’t stop behind the machine but continue to the far side of the room towards a door. Suddenly, Jon spins around to face me and pushes me out of the way. I turn back to see three men enter the room facing us, all with guns raised. Jon’s arm comes out to pull me behind him, and as it does, I feel the jolt through his body.
“Keep moving, Gabby,” he shouts at me as he returns fire. “Cover her.”
I’m trapped between what’s best—stay behind Jon or do as I’m told and make it across the next twenty feet or so to the far wall and the random stack of furniture and boxes. “Go!” Jon bellows, more bullets leaving his gun.
I crouch and bring my hands up over my head, my feet carrying me as fast as I can go. The moment I’m clear of him, the machine gun fires from up high again. Thunderous bangs rain down around me, and I crash to the floor, my knees rubbing against the harsh concrete as I crawl. Tears leak from my eyes as I anticipate the fire of pain ripping through my body. There’s so much noise from what must be hundreds of bullets being fired in the room.
But nothing stops me. I crawl right up to the corrugated iron wall and slump back against it, refusing to try making it to the door. A sofa and another few stacks of boxes make it hard for me to see out into the space, but there are clear lines of sight if I lift my head. I look back towards Jon, but he’s not behind me. He’s propped up against the back wall, his legs spread wide and one arm hanging limply from the shoulder. A river of blood trails down his arm and forms a pool where his hand is resting on the floor.
“Jon!” I cry. He can’t be dead. He came to save me.
“Gabby?”
I recognise that voice.
“Nate?” I lift my head up and look out over the edge of the desk. Just past the boxes, out towards the centre of the room, there’s another pallet loader. Nate’s standing next to it, his brother behind him. Nate’s arm is raised, the gun at the end of his hand scanning, pointing and ready to engage anyone that comes into his sight.
My heart flips in my chest, and all of a sudden, I can’t breathe.
“Stay there, Gabby. Don’t fucking move,” he snarls. I choke on nothing as I look at him, barely able to appreciate the vision. He looks so different, like a wall of hate.
“Nate, please.” My eyes check sideways, noting the empty corridor away from me. “We need to get out of here. You need to move.”
Nate moves, and Quinn comes into view, their backs pinned to one another. They both fire more shots out into the room. “Where the hell’s Jon?” Nate calls.
Quinn ducks and turns them back the other way again, both of their arms still levelled at anything moving.
“He’s been shot.”
A flash of hurt crosses his features, but it’s replaced instantly by more anger—an anger I’ve never seen from him before. “And Frankie?”
“I don’t know who he is.” The bang of a bullet ricocheting from somewhere close has me diving back down and keeping out of sight. “Nate!”
A line of muffled words comes from between him and his brother. Everything in my heart tells me to keep an eye on Nate, but I can’t find the courage to put my head back over to check him. I pull what’s left of my T-shirt over my chest and hug my knees, making myself as small as possible. I can’t do this.
Shock seeps in, like ice running through my body and freezing my blood. It turns me to stone. All the adrenaline that got me here has faded, and the reality of the situation I’ve got to face is closing in around me, suffocating me. He’s out there, bullets showering down on him. I can’t breathe. I can’t even look anymore.
“Gabby!” Nate bellows.
