Chapter 49 Carver
Carver had only felt panic twice in his life. Usually, he was the first person to respond with reason. He was capable, level-headed, and unruled by his emotions. He was calm and able to take whatever came his way.
The same form of panic hit him now. All concern for his own safety banished, and he was halfway out from behind the tree, holding a pistol out in front of him, before realizing he hadn’t shot a gun in years. His first shot was wildly off, but still the guards ducked and he kept moving towards them.
The door opened, and he saw Clara. Her eyes wild, knives held out in front of her, surrounded by blood and carnage. He kept moving, ready to fire again. “Clara!” He yelled. She didn’t seem to notice. “Clara!” He yelled again.
The guards from the outside posts charged at her, and holding his gun out with one hand he hoped against hope he could land the shot. It grazed one soldier's arm, just enough to slow him down. “Clara, run!”
Her eyes snapped to his now, and she scrambled out of the doorway. He planted his feet, holding the gun out with two hands and fired consecutive shots. He barely aimed. It wouldn’t matter. His only goal was to help Clara get away.
This was all his fault. He had broken the rules, and now he was paying the price. He knew from the moment he saw Marsh she was just attractive enough to cause problems. He couldn’t blame her for this. It wasn’t her fault. He blamed himself. He was so stupid to leave Clara to her own devices.
She’d always been reckless. Why did he assume training had tampered that? If anything, it only further convinced her of her ability to do whatever she wanted.
His gun clicked, and he knew that was the end for him. The soldiers had increased in number, and were running towards him. He looked behind him, unable to see Clara, and grateful she had gotten away. That was his only goal.
Everything moved in slow motion. He felt each beat of his heart in his chest, in his throat, in his hands still tightly wrapped around the gun. Had she done it? Had Clara gotten the vials and made it back alive?
He knew she wouldn’t come back for him. He wouldn’t ask her to. Her role, her entire goal was to save Quorath. And because of him, she could. A small amount of pride swelled in his chest. He, too, had accomplished his mission. He saved Clara.
He dropped the pistol and held his hands up at the guards approached. “Where is she?” One soldier gruffly motioned to the others, “Spread out and find her! I’ll take care of him.”
The soldiers dispersed, but Carver knew Clara was long gone. They wouldn’t find her. “On your knees.” The soldier ordered and Carver complied. Whatever happened to him now was irrelevant.
“I should kill you right now.” The soldier muttered, instead cuffing Carver’s hands behind his back. The metal bit into his wrists, but Carver barely felt it. The butt of the guard’s gun came down on his temple, and Carver’s world turned black.