Zion sprinted to Kali, frozen in the kitchen. Red dots and smears painted her mouth, my tattoo on her forearm, the space above her chest. On the counters, a thousand colorless fragments glittered in the faint illumination.
Her hand trembled, and a few bigger shards crashed onto the floor. The minuscule glass pieces scattered across the wooden boards?—
Time slowed as the wind from the destroyed kitchen window tickled my nape, as crimson flowed down Kali’s body, as Zion collided with her, as they?—
The navy cabinet splintered beside them.
Ilunged. My feet gaining traction on the floorboards, I dashed toward them. “DOWN!” My throat vibrated with the strength of my bellow.
Another window shattered right as Zion tackled Kali, out of the direct eyesight of the attackers aiming the rifles. Based on the angles, at least two people sought to kill us.
The rattle of bullets reverberated in the night, and splinters of dark blue and light gray flew in all directions—a whirlpool of wood and plastic enclosing Zion and Kali.
Endless cracks, sharp snaps, and dull pops roared their melody of destruction as the tiny cylinders of lead and antimony alloy burrowed into the furniture and walls, shredding wood, plaster and brick like a river would a rock.
My pulse pounded in my temples as I flew toward the light switch near the door. The two sconces exposed our positions in the house, while the gloom outside obscured the enemy’s location.
A flip of the plastic lever, and darkness claimed the open-plan space. The rusted iron shoe rack I had shoved to the door to act as a temporary lock for the night still stood, unmoved, and a plan forged in my head.
If I was certain of something, it was of this: neither Zion nor Kali would be carried out of here. They would walk out on their own two feet.
Inhaling to the full capacity of my lungs, I willed any feelings to leave me. Now was not the time to display weakness.
As I exhaled, cold invaded my brain, dousing the sparking neurons in the areas responsible for my emotions. Logic and reasoning seated themselves at the forefront of my mind.
Whoever was outside, they would need to reload at some point. All cities’ forces were identical. The government provided the military with two types of firearms: semi-automatic handguns and fully automatic rifles, which could also operate in the former’s manner. It was far from difficult to determine which one the soldiers currently employed for the task of demolishing our one-story dwelling and puncturing our flesh.
Utilizing the cover the endless strings of bullets provided, I heaved the iron shoe rack aside?—
Deafening quiet descended.
Their firearms had sputtered out.
The absence of noise plugged my ears, and I positioned my foot to keep the door closed.
“Gedeon.” Kali’s whisper was as inaudible as the steady drip of scarlet down her front.
I pressed a finger to my lips.
Monitoring the holes where the windows had once stood, I moved my foot an inch from the door. It swung until it hit my leg, but not a creak disturbed the fallen hush.
Her eyes bugged out. “N?—”
Zion covered her mouth, well aware of how we had to keep quiet. Grimacing, she jerked away from him. He silently swore at the specks of red littering his palm, and then tilted her head up, inspecting her face and ignoring how she tried to shove him away. She slapped his arm?—
His fist hit the ground.
A torrent of wrath raged inside me—a bullet had carved a gorge into his right forearm. The deep tear exposed the muscle, and the walls I had built around myself to remain clearheaded collapsed.
The soldiers had touched him. Perhaps not with their blows, but their weapons answered to them and no one else, identically to how their hearts were soon going to submit to my command, a simple one at that: stop.
Fueled by the fury nagging me to move, my foot shuffled away from the door, widening the gap, and I mouthed to both of them,Stay here.
Before Kali could protest, Zion caught her waist, drawing her closer to the cabinets under the sink.
As the rattle renewed, he used his body to cover her. Fresh bullets, probably still hot from the friction they had sustained during their flight out of the barrel, rained damage on any surface they could reach.
I slipped through the crack in the doorway. The cold attacked me, peppering me with icy pricks. The thick wooden posts creating the railing of the veranda partially masked me as I crept toward the backyard the kitchen windows faced.
