Five shots ring through the air, each one, a headshot finding its target. But I’m not fast enough, the remaining two draw their weapons and I’ve barely retreated behind the hood when their bullets cut into the space where I once was.
On second thought… Xavier’s unconscious, the driver is dead, no one else is around... and these two will be dead soon.
I don't see a reason to play it safe for two dead men.
I dash out from behind the car, running straight for the closest man. But it turns out, limbs don’t work as well as you think after getting hit by a truck… even after you heal up a bit.
I'm unable to avoid the bullets that sink into my shoulder and thigh.
Still, I reach him—I grab the barrel of his gun and point it away, then I step around him so he’s safely between me and his partner.
One shot and the one furthest from us goes down—my bullet clips him between the eyes. But the idiot triggers two shots before he falls.
Both bullets burrow into his partner’s chest—the one I put between us. He falls to the floor with a sharp cry and I wrestle his gun out of his fingers before throwing it to one side.
I have to dig my fingers deep into my own wounds to pull the bullets out. Even after dulling the pain, sifting through bone and muscle… is uncomfortable to say the least. Still, I’m able to pull the bullets out and drop them to the floor.
“Fuck, you guys really pulled out all the stops,” I mutter as I crouch to my attacker’s level.
He's not dead, but he will be soon.
I pull his head up by his hair to rest the barrel of the gun beneath his chin.
“Who sent you?”
The man only glares at me through hateful eyes.
“You're protecting Philip, aren't you?” I make a deadly guess. “The Harvester?”
“You really thought we wouldn't notice you loitering around the girl fordays?” he sneers and it tells me all I need to know.
We were found out.
Evie’s in trouble.
Since when?
For how long has Philip been dragging us around by the tail?
I pull the trigger and his blood splatters against the dying grass.
The car rolled off the highway but even that is empty; I’m sure the accident that’s keeping Tobias and Xavier separated from us was orchestrated to keep the roads clear.
By the time the flow of traffic resumed, we would’ve been dead and their cleaners would’ve already swept through.
A groan from the car snaps my attention away and Xavier opens the door to fall out of the car.
Stiffness is beginning to set in from mistreating my body so much, but I ignore it for now as I walk past Xavier, grab the duffel in the backseat of the car and search around for anything else we might need.
“I don’t mean to rush you,” I sling the bag over my shoulder with a wince, “but we’ve got to go.”
Xavier is coughing and wheezing on the floor as I stand above him and he looks as shaken as anyone hit by a truck should probably be.
“How—the fuck are you—alive?” He coughs in bursts, trembling slightly as he tries to gather air into his lungs.
Is it too late to say drugs?
“Let’s start with ‘thank you’ for now,” I play at nonchalance, pulling him up by the scruff of his shirt to place our phones in his hands. “Philip’s getting away with Evie.”
