He’d barely taken a step forward when he got hit by a bullet.
I froze in place, eyes wide open.
He took two more bullets to the chest before dropping to the ground. “Run,” he said to us, his voice faint, blood spilling from his mouth.
I grabbed Agata by the hand, and we took off immediately. These men fired at us as we sprinted through the street like our lives depended on it.
I was in front, Agata was behind, our hands still locked together when I heard it. That painful gasp that followed a single shot. She slowed down, and I paused in my tracks, too scared to turn around.
It was as though time stood still, and I could hear her ragged breathing echoing.
“Ma’am,” she called, her voice weak.
I turned around, and my hands flew to my mouth in horror. She’d been hit.
Agata stood there, bleeding from her lower abdomen, her eyes boring right into mine.
“No,” I mumbled, tears streaming down my cheeks.
She glanced at her wound, then slowly dropped to her knees.
“No!” I screamed, running to grab her before her head hit the concrete.
At this point, I didn’t give a shit about my own safety; I just wanted to save her.
“Stay with me,” I whimpered, my voice cracking as I placed my hand on her wound.
The warmth of her blood between my fingers shattered my heart into a million tiny pieces. My tears fell on her cheeks as I held her in my arms, weeping like a child.
She stared into my face, struggling to breathe as she took my bloodied hand.
“You’re gonna be fine,” I whispered amidst broken sobs, forgetting the trouble around us.
Her lips quivered, blood lodged in her throat. “Run,” she managed to say.
I shook my head, tears pouring uncontrollably. “I’m not leaving you.”
“Please….” Her eyes pleaded with me to leave her.
But I wasn’t going to.
I heard voices speaking in Russian, and soon heavy footsteps approached me.
“...run…ma’am. Run.” She strained, her grip tightening around my fingers.
Seconds later, her hand went limp, and her eyes closed.
“No!” I wept, my head on her chest, sniffling.
Large shadows surrounded me, but I didn’t care. I was too numb to feel anything right now.
“She’s the one,” someone said, their voice laced with a Russian accent.
“Take her,” said another.
I locked my jaw, seething as I spotted a metal rod lying discarded across from me. Without hesitation, I scraped it off the ground, rose to my feet, and swung it with what little strength I had left in me.
The strike almost took my victim’s head off, sending his face smashing into the window of a nearby car.
