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Blood thrums in my eardrums like the crashing waves of the sea—nostalgic and familiar, a reminder of a simpler time in my life when all I had to worry about was if I'd hook my thumb while threading lures with my father on the docks.
Bullets crack overhead. The snow in front of us has been tamped down into mud and slush. The red blood of fallen bodies swirl in the mix of gray. Everywhere is the copper-penny scent of death.
"I see you!” Mila yells in my ear. “On your left!”
Jerking sideways, I pull Galina out of the way, aiming my rifle at the cop about to jump on us. My muzzle flashes, casting light over his wretched scowl. Half his face vanishes in a spray of blood and bone. Katya screams, but Galina and Ruslan don't make a sound. They're becoming numb to the violence. Or maybe they're still in shock.
Galina wipes at the blood splatter on her shirt. I give her a tug.
"Look at me." When she does, I say, "Don't think about it. Just grab my hand and look at my feet. That's all you have to do."
Jutting out her chin, she nods and drops her stare to my boots.
Another cop rushes at us—one of my men takes him out before he gets close. Two more have spotted me. The crack-crack of a pair of perfectly aimed bullets is the only warning before they both fall in a heap.
"Keep moving!" Mila’s voice in my ear guides me. "Another hundred feet! I'm straight ahead of you!"
Hanging on to Galina with my rifle aimed forward, I lead us across the yard. The slick ground is only half the problem; I trip on the corpses that have piled up. I make a note of every one of my soldiers. I'll acknowledge their sacrifice properly when the time comes.
My chest is searing from exertion, but I keep pushing onward. Adrenaline is what keeps me moving at this point. That... and the knowledge I'm almost there. I've killed Yevgeniy, rescued Galina and her mother, and ensured our future all in one stroke.
It doesn't matter if I'm exhausted—I'll run for another hundred miles if I have to.
A scream as ragged as the edge of an old saw-blade floods my ears. Galina's grip on my hand goes slack—she's not running anymore as she pulls me down to the ground.
Terror grips my heart before I look to see what's happened.
Galina is on her knees in the snow, one arm folded over her ribs. The blood is dark and bright and it's all I see. "Galina!" I cry.
Her mother, aghast at the sight of her daughter's injury, falls beside her. She tries to help Galina to her feet. Ruslan looks on in dazed confusion. The bullets haven't stopped darting around us. A cop stands nearby, his gun letting off steam in the cold air. His smug sneer is the only proof I need to know he's the one who's done this.
Diving to the ground, I yank Ruslan low to the ground, and then level my rifle. The cop shifts his aim to me, but he's too slow. My shot hits him square in the chest, and he crumples like a sack of potatoes from where he stands.
I drop my rifle, scooping Galina into my arms. "Galina, Galina!"
There's blood on her lips, her eyes are wide but unfocused. The only thing she's actively doing is clutching her stomach protectively.
Just like in my nightmares.
"Mila!" I roar. "Galina's been shot!"
"On my way!" she replies, so loudly the static crunches.
My rifle remains by my feet. I need both arms to lift Galina. Hoisting her close to my chest, I search the distance for a sign of Mila. I'm more vulnerable than ever.
"Follow me!" I snap, not looking to make sure that Katya and Ruslan obey.
Sprinting around dead friends and foes, I bend forward, straining to make my legs pump faster. I've never run so fast in my life. The sound of their heavy breathing and stomping feet confirms that Katya and Ruslan aren't far behind.
Mila, please, where are you? I glance down at Galina. Her face his white, like all her color has spilled onto the front of her clothing. Don't die, don't you dare fucking die!
Tires screech, high-beams blasting me in the face. The tell-tale red and blue lights on the top of the police car send me into a panic. Even if I had a free hand to draw a weapon, I left mine far behind.
"Arsen!" Mila yells out the driver's side window.
"You stole a cop car?" I ask her in surprise.
She looks beyond me. Lifting her pistol, she fires off three quick shots. The cops who were trying to close in on us groan, gag, and fall. I didn't see them coming.
