Chapter Nineteen #2
She smiled. “I’ll see you on the outside, Zahra.”
I nodded.
She returned it, gaze hardening as she engaged the flash grenade, throwing it right at our attackers.
The moment the bang blasted, I made a run for it, dashing down three aisles and straight for the area where Team B went through.
“Team B, stat!” I yelled.
“Route to the workers’ station, men down!” someone shouted from the radio where the gunshots were just as loud as they were here.
“On my way!” I yelled back.
The route to the workers’ station was tight.
Hot steel pipes lined the walls on both sides of me, a loud whirring sound making it difficult to really use my ears to scope my surroundings; it was why when I turned a corner with my weapon before me, a man sharply turned with his gun pointed right at me.
“Drop it, lady,” he said, voice hard.
“What if I say no?”
His jaw ticked, then a smile curved at the side of his lips as he raised his gun, like he was surrendering. “Why don’t we fight fairly? Give me chance to beat that no out of y—”
I pulled the trigger, watching him drop to the ground with a thud, my bullet sitting right between his eyes.
“Sorry, but I don’t have time for that,” I muttered, stepping over his corpse just as the sound of hurried footsteps reached my ears. I sighed when another man with a gun came into view. He charged at me, and I fired at the pipe right beside him, steam blasting out to the side of his face.
He screamed, staggering back, distracted and shooting blindly.
I dove out of the way, shooting back until—click.
“Shit,” I cursed.
Charging him, I connected my gun with his torso and my knee with his groin, making his knees pinch together, his gun clattering to the ground. I snatched it up sharply, shooting him twice in the chest.
I encountered three more armed men on my way to the workers’ station. I finished the bullets on them. Received one and then two really fucking hard blows to my sides. Met up with Team B and separated when they gave me cover to go before them to the workers’ station.
Quietly, I climbed up the tiny stairs from the engine area and through the small door to the workers’ station, my gun leading the way as I came into a long empty hallway, doors on each side.
The dull hum around me was the only sound I—
Wait a minute.
I paused, frowning as I stopped to really listen.
A familiar sound was coming from one of the rooms, dull, but I heard it.
A song …
Chills ran down my spine, fear trickling up my stomach to my chest.
The gun shook in my grip as a very weird, twisted version of Connie Francis’s “Pretty Little Baby” echoed softly down the hallway.
Red-hot dread had my insides tightening as I moved, the sound growing louder, just as my breathing did. I could feel panic setting in.
Why … was it playing? Why that song?
I forced down a swallow, stopping in front of the door the music seemed to be coming from.
Every muscle in my face was twitching, vibrations stretching from my fingertips to my head.
I felt faint, lightheaded, my stomach churning with anger and fear and confusion.
Panic locked inside me and I kicked the door open, my breathing cutting out as my gaze met that of scared fourteen-year-old boys and girls, all huddled around each other.
My throat tightened as my gaze flicked to a table where a vinyl record player was turning, the music spewing out.
With my teeth clenched, my heart raging, I pointed my barrel at the record player, and fired bullet after bullet after bullet until all I heard was click, click, click.
The music stopped.
My chest was heaving, my panic clawing, eyes wide as I looked at the kids. “Who was here?” I asked.
They didn’t answer. All I saw was fear, raw, unfiltered fear staring back at me.
“Who put that fucking music on!” I yelled, and some of the kids flinched and yelped, drawing farther away from me.
I dropped my gun, my shoulders falling as I walked backward until I hit a wall, slumping down and covering my face with my shaking hands, unable to breathe. “I’m sorry,” I whispered, hot tears gathering and falling from my eyes. “I didn’t—mean to yell. I’m sorry.”
When I looked up again to meet those eyes, those reflections …
Reflections of me.
Of where I used to be, what I used to be. What … deep down, I still am.
Scared. Uncertain. Voiceless.
My lips trembled, my vision blurred as I managed a small smile. “It’s okay, I’m the good guy,” I said. “You’re all going to be okay now.”
I wiped my eyes, knowing I wasn’t going to receive any response from them as I clicked on the radio attached to my vest. “Does anyone copy? I have them.”
Static, then, “We’re on our way to you now. Our backup has arrived.”
Relief flooded me.
“Daiyu?” I asked.
Silence followed, and my throat grew heavy.
“She didn’t make it,” the voice replied.
I closed my eyes, fresh tears sliding down my cheeks as I nodded. “Got it.” My voice was thick with tears. “Have the boats on standby, we need to get out of here before authorities are alerted. And prepare for cleanup.”
“Copy.”