“Shut up, bitch!” A second player yells at her.
“You, turn around,” says the guy pointing the gun at me. I turn around and the second player is behind Sarah, holding a knife to her neck.
You’re dead, pal.
“Move an inch and my friend over there will start slicing your chick up.” He gets close to me and starts to frisk me with one hand. He’ll find my weapon soon. I have to do something.
“Let me go!” Sarah screams.
“Stay still, you fucking bitch, or me carving you up will be the least of your problems.”
The guy frisking me is done with my left leg.
“I’m not afraid of you, asshole,” she says. The guy punches her in the stomach.
“There. You liked that? Did you fucking like that?” Sarah coughs and gasps for air.
“Hey! Hey… you. I’m gonna put a bullet between your eyebrows.” He’s done with the right leg and is moving up to my waist.
“Ha-ha! You ain’t doing jack shit, bro.” That’s it, keep distracting yourself and your partner.
“Rat, shut your pie hole and keep her controlled.” His gun is visible to me and it’s not directly pointed at my body anymore.
Now.
I clutch my right arm next to my body, take a step back and to my left. I move my arm up and grab the guy’s wrist. I pull up with my hand and he fires around while fighting me. I twist the wrist and he loses grip of the gun.
“Arghh!” He’s now disarmed. I throw my elbow down and crush it on his face, making a loud thud. He grabs his bloody mouth and before he can react, I land a heel kick to his left knee, shattering his knee cap and probably damaging a few ligaments. He loses balance and falls down the slope.
“Hey! You motherfu—”
Bang.
I keep my promise and put a bullet where I said I would.
“Oh, my God!!” Sarah screams and covers her mouth with both hands.
“Are you okay?” I say while walking towards her. “Sarah, are you okay?” She doesn’t answer me. Her eyes are fixed on Rat’s dead body.
“I… I….” She mutters. I quickly check for injuries. I find one— a flesh wound made by the bullet the other idiot fired by reflex. I take off my suit jacket and put it on her.
“Come on, let’s get in the car and get out of here,” I say while easing her on the passenger seat. I run to the driver’s side and glance at the bottom of the slope, only to find the other guy limping away. I don’t have time to chase him, we gotta go.
I close the door and turn over the engine, which patiently purrs waiting for me to make it roar. My Aston Martin One-77 understands we’re in a hurry and as soon as I step on the gas, it delivers exceptional acceleration, allowing us to rocket away in a second. Having a car like this on your side is always an advantage. There are a few cars out there that can keep up with it and I doubt either of those two were riding something remotely capable.
We are gliding over the road at nearly 150. I want to put distance between Sarah and that cemetery as fast as possible.
I turn to my right to check on her and I see her sitting still and quiet, but her chest moves fast. She’s hyperventilating.
“You okay there, Sarah?” She says nothing back. “Come on, talk to me. I know we just went through something shitty, but you need to let it out.” I’m trying to play this cool, but…
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!
It ain’t working! I knew this was going to happen! I shouldn’t have brought her along. I put her on harm’s way, letting my stupid ‘I-can-protect-her-anywhere’ attitude get in the way.
Twenty minutes go by and Sarah’s still not saying a word. Her face looks tired and it’s a bit pale. She’s also sweating a lot. Granted, that’s something to be expected when you get shot in the arm.
Flesh wound or not, I must find a place for us to crash for the rest of the day. It’s not safe for us to be driving around after what happened. I’m sure that limping asshole already reported back to his gang.
