Chapter 9 #2
He blinks slowly and barely nods.
“I need you with me, Owen. Are you with me?” My voice is firm and emotionless. There isn’t time for emotion now, that comes later.
He glances back down at Juliette and touches her face softly once more, pain etched across his handsome features.
I grab his hand and yank him up. “Stay low and follow me.”
We crouch run to the first server I took out with my knife.
“Down,” I instruct, and Owen obeys.
I reach down and pull out the knife from the server’s chest, wiping the blood on the tablecloth, then reach for his dropped gun.
I cock it and stand.
Terrified people are still running to the exits, the human reaction of fight or flight taking over, and they all run and grapple over each other to save themselves.
This is humanity at its worse.
There is nothing more deadly than scared animals trying to save themselves, and people are no different. Our instincts take control in these situations.
Pushing, shoving, clawing at each other to save themselves.
“You need to go out that door there.” I point to the far side of the hall.
“From there, you are going to go through the hotel’s back corridors to a car that is parked in the alley.
You go through that door, go down the corridor, turn right, then the second left.
The doors to the car are open and the keys are in the visor.
There is an envelope in the glove compartment.
Follow the instructions inside it and turn the phone on. Nod if you understand.”
He nods; his eyes are wide. He’s still got Jules’ blood all over him, but he understands.
“When I stand up, I am going to create a diversion. You are going to stay low and run.”
He’s still with me, barely, so I stand up and we run towards the next bank of tables. The room’s crowds are slowly dispersing, but as we get closer to the tables by the entrance to the event, we see the damage.
Tables and chairs have been knocked over. People are lying lifeless on the floor. Some are writhing around in pain, but others haven’t made it, their wounds too severe.
This is a shit show.
Whatever Owen is involved in is so much more than just the Covenant.
Who would bomb a charity event?
I’ve seen a lot of devastation in my time, but this, the aftermath of an attack like this, it’s horrific. The smell of burning flesh and dust fills the air. The screams of the terrified, the wails of the injured.
It’s a war-zone.
Thankfully, there doesn’t seem to be many victims, but their twisted bodies will be burnt into my memory for a while.
I know that must seem like a strange thing. Bearing in mind taking a life doesn’t bother me. But you have to understand the difference between killing someone who is ornately evil to the core versus a complete innocent.
This is such a waste of life.
I glance across to Owen, who is staring at the lifeless bodies of a couple caught in the explosion, both gripped in an everlasting embrace.
“Don’t look at them. Focus on the path in front of us.” I grab his hand and squeeze, trying to be reassuring. But how can I truly give him the reassurance he needs when I’m sitting here, holding a Glock in my hand, and he’s just watched me ruthlessly kill three people?
“Can you see the door?”
He nods, but my attention is ripped from Owen and the broken bodies as a team of six men fall into the room, all in black combat attire, gas masks over their heads. They enter in a tactical formation, fanning out in a search pattern.
Well…Shit.
These are trained and dangerous men.
“Get ready to move.” I take the safety off the gun and stand and pull the trigger before I order Owen to run.
He darts across the room, using the tables as cover as he zig zags across the carnage, running as fast as he can to the door. All the while, I empty the bullets from my gun, picking off the team one by one as I move across the room.
I’ve caught them by surprise, not realising someone would be here to meet them, to try to stop their mission.
My gun fires its last bullet when the first sound of their gun pops. A burning sensation on my right arm flares as a bullet grazes my flesh.
Blood bursts from the wound as I drop to the ground. I glance at Owen’s last location to see him disappear through the door before I roll to the table for cover.
I’ve got no bullets, and only a knife as a weapon. I’ve hit at least four of them, but I can’t engage with them, not when Owen is left unprotected. I have to hope he makes it to the car in one piece. The hotel will have been evacuated. The fire alarms are blaring, adding to the chaos.
I grab a fallen napkin and wrap it around my arm, thankful that it’s a flesh wound but it will still need stitches. I fold it quickly and tie it around the gash before I take out the knife.
I slice my dress giving me more movement, remove my shoes, and start crawling on my hands and knees towards the secondary fire exit. I pause every few feet to listen for their commands, but amongst the noise, I can’t pinpoint anything or anyone.
“Help me.” A small voice grabs my attention, and I look over to see a woman who is similar in age staring through tear-streaked eyes. Her hands are bloody. I hold my finger up to my lips and she nods.
But I can’t help her.
I can’t stop and put pressure on her wound to stop her from bleeding out. I can’t reassure her that she’s going to be okay.
I can’t do anything but continue to get to Owen.
As I start to crawl past her, the broken whisper punches me in my gut.
“Please, don’t leave me.”
I wince and shake my head as I continue crawling. And I feel fucking horrific.
Like I said, I maybe emotionless when killing, but that woman is an innocent. I can’t do anything to help her. And it’s bullshit.
The safety systems of the hotel have finally kicked in, and the sprinklers overhead have come on. Using the momentary distraction, I stand up, locate my target, and throw my knife at one of the assailants.
I miss, but it’s made them duck, allowing me to run full pelt out the fire exit.
I skid out the room, my shoulder hitting the other side of the corridor, sending a sharp dagger of pain jolting through my grazed arm. I push off the wall, regaining my balance leaving a bloody smear in its wake.
Guests file out of the hotel tear stained. Workers evacuate through the halls, dust covered dinner guests all make their way to the safety of the exit, away from the death and destruction.
Outside, emergency services are already at the scene, with police setting up a cordon as the standard operating procedures are put in place to deal with the incident.
I let my mask fall, and push tears into my eyes which isn’t hard to do.
All I need to think about is all the broken bodies, the woman I couldn’t help, and fall into step with the other victims, crying just like everyone else.
I fall onto the street, the blue lights of the emergency vehicles illuminating the roads and buildings outside. Paramedics, police, firefighters, everyone is running towards us.
“Miss, do you need medical attention?” A paramedic grabs me, and I grip hold of the dark green material of her uniform.
“Oh my God,” I sob, “the people. Those poor people. Owen, where’s Owen?” A paramedic comes towards me and wraps a silver blanket around me.
“We will find him, ma’am; you’re going to be fine. Is it just your arm that hurts?” I nod, eyes wide. “Okay ma’am—” A scream of help from behind me grabs her attention, and I slip between two buildings, letting the shadows swallow me whole.