He looks at the men, and something in his expression shifts. Becomes calculating despite the drugs. He laughs, the sound unhinged and bitter. "Do whatever you want with her. Shoot her. I don't care. She's useless to me now. I'm taking Lily and getting out of here. She's my insurance policy."
He points his gun at me, the barrel looking impossibly large from this angle. Pulls a lighter from his pocket with his free hand. Clicks it open. Holds the flame to the zip ties binding my ankles.
The plastic melts quickly. The tie snaps with a sound like breaking bone. He moves to my wrists, repeating the process.The heat gets close to my skin, almost burning me, but he doesn't seem to care or notice.
My hands are suddenly free but completely useless, fingers numb and unresponsive.
He pulls me up roughly, his grip bruising on my upper arm. But I can't stand properly, my legs refusing to support my weight. Still too groggy from whatever they gave me. Muscles weak from being tied in one position for hours. The floor tilts under my feet.
Henry doesn't wait for me to find my balance. Just drags me in front of him, positioning my body as a shield between himself and the men with their guns. His arm wraps around my throat, not quite choking but close. The gun presses against my ribs.
He starts moving toward the door, shuffling sideways, dragging me with him. "Step aside!" he yells at the men, his voice cracking slightly. "Move or I shoot her right now!"
Everyone has guns pointed at everyone else. The kind of situation where one wrong move, one flinch, one miscalculation ends with bodies on the floor.
When Henry gets close to the door, Sarah suddenly moves. Lunges at him with a scream, her face twisted with fury and betrayal and the particular rage of someone who just realized they've been abandoned. "You can't just leave me here with them! You bastard! You coward!"
Henry doesn't hesitate.
Doesn't pause.
Doesn't speak.
Just pulls the trigger.
The sound is deafening in the enclosed space. My ears ring immediately, all other sound disappearing under a high-pitched whine.
Sarah's chest blooms red. She looks down at it with confusion, like she can't quite process what's happening. Then her legs give out. She collapses, hitting the concrete hard. Dead before her body stops moving.
I'm in shock, my brain refusing to accept what I just witnessed. Can't process it. Can't think beyond the immediate sensory input of blood spreading across concrete and the smell of gunpowder thick in the air.
Henry is already dragging me toward the door again, stepping over Sarah's body without looking down. Using my body as cover against the men who still have guns trained on him but won't risk the shot.
The men keep their weapons steady, but I can see the calculation in their eyes. The terrible math. They won't risk hitting me. Won't take a shot that might go through Henry and into me. Won't gamble with my life.
I try to speak through the fog in my head and the ringing in my ears. Try to reach whatever part of my brother might still existunder the drugs and desperation. "Henry, please. Stop this. It's not too late. Let me go. Just let me go and run."
He doesn't respond. Doesn't acknowledge that I spoke. Just keeps moving with mechanical determination.
The men step aside slowly, reluctantly, creating a path to the door. Letting us pass because they have no other choice that doesn't risk my life.
Once we're outside, everything happens too fast to track.
A shot rings out. Echoing across open air.
Henry flinches violently. His shoulder jerks back. Blood appears, dark and immediate against his shirt.
He drops the gun. It clatters on concrete. His arm around my throat releases.
I fall, my legs giving out completely, hitting the ground hard enough to knock the air from my lungs.
Through my hazy, drug-blurred vision, I see who shot him. See the man standing twenty feet away with a gun still raised and smoking.
Cormac?
What is he doing here? Am I hallucinating? Is this real?
Henry takes off running, clutching his bleeding shoulder, disappearing into the darkness beyond the building. Cormac chases after him immediately, his movements professional and efficient.
