Just then, a guard appeared from the kitchen, tripping over the other guard’s body. His gun skidded across the floor and I lunged for it without thinking. The wound in my leg screamed in protest as I landed by the weapon. My vision was spotty and my head swam as I lay there, my shaky hands wrapped around the gun handle. Cam’s words flooded back to me as I fumbled with it, but my thoughts were foggy with pain and panic. Then Genevieve’s hands were on me as she urged me to get up.
A whine bled from my lips as the guard regained his footing and threw himself towards us.
“Freeze!” he barked, and Genevieve froze, her finger a hairsbreadth from the trigger of the gun in her hand. “Drop the gun.”
There was a loud thud as Genevieve’s gun hit the floor.
The guard closed in, sneering, but his expression dropped when he realized I was still moving. I grabbed Genevieve, trying to drag her frozen body, but it was unyielding. I lifted the gun with shaking hands and shouted for the guard to stand down. He tried barking at me again, but I ignored the command. Then he lunged at me and we fell to the ground. In the chaotic fumble, I discharged the gun, hitting him square in the side. He slumped to the floor next to me, blood blooming from the wound.
I whimpered in horror. I had done that. I had harmed someone.
“Come on, Josie,” Genevieve hissed, now unfrozen. I realized she was pulling me down the hall. “You did good,” she continued. “Don’t worry about him.”
I realized I was still whining. “Did I kill him?” I asked in a whisper, dreading the answer.
“No,” Genevieve responded. “You just got him in the side. He should be fine, but we need to go.”
My inner omega latched onto the authority in her voice, even if her words felt like a lie. I used her for support, my injured leg dragging uselessly behind me.
We rounded the corner where I knew the hidden door was. The dark concrete hallway looked so much more menacing than when Sam and I used to run down it, treats and champagne in hand. Single fluorescent bulbs hung from the ceiling, casting a flickering glow in the darkness.
“If this were a horror movie, the audience would scream at us right now,” I mumbled. I couldn’t feel my leg anymore and my thoughts were a confused tangle. My head lolled on my shoulders and Genevieve tightened her grip around my waist.
“Thisisa horror movie,” Genevieve responded. “But we are not those stupid side character girls who get killed in the first five minutes.”
“We’d at least stay alive for ten,” I said deliriously. I fought to keep my eyes open, to support myself on my good leg so I wasn’t dragging Genevieve down.
“Where is the door?”
“Just a bit further,” I responded, trying to focus my eyes and find the divot in the wall that signaled the secret exit.
“There it is!” I gasped, gesturing with my hand. Genevieve picked up her pace, dragging me towards the spot in the wall.
And then my heart stopped.
Standing at the opposite end of the hallway was Dave.
Nausea rolled over me as my body remembered the last time I had seen him walking me down a similar hallway to hell.
His eyes widened in shock as we stared at each other.
I looked for the gun I’d been holding, but my hands were empty. I must have dropped it.
“What the fuck are you doing?” he hissed, glancing over his shoulder.
Rage filled me, clearing the haze of the pain and shock my body was experiencing. I had trusted him. Clementine had trusted him. And he betrayed me.
“What areyoudoing here?” I shot back.
Genevieve squeezed my arm so tight I knew it would bruise.
“I should have known you’d be working for Glen now. You are scum,” I said, cringing when I realized how loud my voice was.
“I had no choice,” he said, taking a few steps towards us.
Panic flooded me. We couldn’t retreat down the hall—the only way we would escape was through this door. Every pounding heartbeat was a reminder that time was running out.
“There’s always a choice,” I said, tugging Genevieve’s shirt to signal her to move us closer to the exit. She obliged, shuffling us carefully towards the door. “You chose to betray us, to betray me.”
