46. Day 100 – Caterina
We reach the first soldiers as we round the corner.
The recognition in their eyes, the hesitation as they recognise us, costs them as we fire. Stefano pushes me forward, his hand on my back keeping me steady as my feet threaten to slip in the blood at our feet.
Every shot only stokes that fire in my chest, pushes it to burn hotter and hotter until every part of me feels alight.
As I round the corner a few steps ahead of Stefano, the shot nearly takes me out. Swearing, I duck to the side. Shouts echo from down the hall, a burst of gunfire.
“Cat!”
I straighten at that voice. “Danny?”
My senior soldier bursts through the smoke. And he’s grinning as he launches himself toward me, his embrace threatening to topple me as I wrap my arms around him tightly.
“Fucking hell, it’s good to see you.” I pull away, glancing over his shoulder to check the route is clear. More faces look back at me.
Rocco, Dante’s enforcer, grins. “Now it’s a party.”
A man who I vaguely recognise from the Fusco line offers me a nod. I frown at him. “Do I know you?”
He blanches. “Uh – the Fusco dungeon. Sorry about that.”
Everyone pauses, even Rocco. Slowly, I nod. “One for later.”
Hands push Danny out of the way. Tony looks worse, a deep cut dripping blood into his eye, but he drags me into his arms anyway. “Have you seen Frankie?”
Stiffening, I shake my head at his frantic tone. “I did – but a few days ago. She didn’t come back?”
The panic on his face grows. “No.”
Shouting behind us, and I twist, throwing my hands out. “Don’t kill him!”
Danny’s gun is up, pointing at Stefano. “You sure?”
“Yes.” Delicately, I push the barrel down, offering Stefan an apologetic grimace. He keeps his own up a few moments longer. “He’s with me. Can you spread the word?”
“Will do.”
Footsteps up ahead. I glance back to Tony. “We’ll find her, Tony.”
We take up positions in the doorways lining the hall. Shots are exchanged on both sides until they go silent. We wait, assessing.
When nothing else comes, we slip out. I turn back to Tony, opening my mouth—
My head bangs against the wall. Shouting, more of it, and Stefan is there, rolling me over. “You okay?”
“Cat.”
I stagger to my feet. Tony is crouched, his hands not stopping the blood.
No.
Danny coughs as I drop down next to him. My hands shake. “Danny—,”
The shot went through his neck. The shot meant for me.
He wheezes. It takes seconds, just a few short seconds for his eyes to turn to glass. Tony swears, and I hear the agony beneath.
“I’m sorry,” I breathe, staring at his face. “I’m so sorry, Danny.”
I can’t. I can’t let that ache in yet. Stefan helps Tony to shift him, to move him so he’s laying on his back, out of the way of anyone. “We’ll come back for him.”
After this is done.
Stefan looks down the corridor. “More coming.”
Tony is savage, his face a mask as he picks off men one by one. We pass many of our own, calls and shouts telling us which way to go.
“Who?” I call to Rocco when we pause to catch our breath. His brows furrow, clear in understanding.
“Gio and Dante.”
Luc would be with Alessia, then. But Dom—
More soldiers. More gunshots.
We lose ourselves to the fight. Pushing through.
More smoke fills the hall we’re caught in. I start to cough as it catches in my lungs. Shots still echo, dangerous in the dim space, and I press myself to the wall as I slide.
“Cat!”
Stefano. I can hear his bellow, but he sounds further away than I expected. I can’t fucking see. There are shapes ahead of me, unfamiliar enough that I don’t dare take the risk of calling back.
Slowly, I keep moving, my hands on the stone. I run out of wall, the space indicating yet another hall in this maze of a fucking place.
Taking a chance, I slip down it. The smoke begins to clear as I get further from the first hall, and I lift my gun.
Silence.
My feet pad along the floor. I pass several bodies, none of which I recognise. As I reach another fork, I glance up and down.
Everything the fucking same.
I turn right. I can hear shouting in the distance, and I pray that the rest of them are fine. Danny’s empty eyes flash into my mind, and I almost stumble.
Stay aware.
When I walk around the next corner, my body locks up. A whole fucking unit of Asante men are there, their backs to me. Slowly, I back up, my hand slipping to check.
I have one cartridge left.
Something sharp cracks beneath my bare feet, and one of them looks up.
Fuck – fuck.
I spin, racing back down that hall as shouts ring out behind me. Feet pound against the concrete, and I pump my arms, cursing the lack of exercise from the last three months as my breath seesaws.
I fly past the original entrance to this hall, racing down endless concrete as I beg silently for allies at the other end.
But they’re gaining on me.
And I’m too fucking slow.