Dropping my chin to my chest, I suck in a deep steadying breath before I roll my shoulders back, hold my head high, and turn to join the rest of my team in the storefront.
Suddenly, a loud explosion rattles the walls, and on instinct, I drop to the floor.
The sound of glass shattering and screaming is quicklyoverrun by the familiar sound of gunfire, popping loud in the air as wood splinters in the doorway.
Bonnie’s shriek is close, and I scurry across the floor to peer around the corner, seeing her huddled in a ball in the hallway as bullets fly overhead.
Army crawling out into the salon, I reach Bonnie and tug on her arm.
“Come on. Get in the back room!” I yell, hoping the other staff can hear me over the never-ending cracks.
Bonnie’s wild blue eyes peer up to meet mine, and I tug her again until she starts helping herself, army crawling into the backroom.
“Stay low,” I hiss, the sting of pain lashing my cheek as a shard of glass just misses my eye.
More screaming comes from deeper inside the salon, and I know I need to get out there and help the others, so I scurry into the back over to my desk, reaching under the drawers and pulling free the gun I have stashed there.
“Why the hell do you have a gun?” Bonnie cries, huddling in the back corner, but I don’t answer her, instead checking the chamber before standing.
Bonnie is calling to me, but I zone her out, as well as Lenny’s screams, and focus on what needs to be done.
With the gun raised, I peer around the corner noticing an arsehole wearing a balaclava standing on the path outside the store, the semi-automatic gun in his hands as he shoots rapid rounds into my salon, cutting it up like it’s nothing but a sheet of paper.
I take aim and shoot.
The pop is loud, but it’s followed by ear-ringing silence as the fucker falls to the ground.
“Get in the back!” I scream to whoever can hear me as I step back out into the salon, gun still raised and pointed out to the street.
There’s a van pulled up at the curb, and another man wearing a balaclava leaps out, going to the ground to try to rouse the shooter I shot.
It’s too late, though. My bullet went straight through his eye socket. He was dead before he hit the ground.
“No! Benny!” The man cries right as another masked offender sticks his head out the window of the van.
“Darcy! We gotta go! Get the fuck back in the van!”
Right as Darcy stands, anger visible in his eyes as they meet mine, I smirk and squeeze the trigger.
Just like the first guy, my aim is impeccable, hitting Darcy’s eye, and he crumbles to the ground right next to his mate in a heap.
The wide eyes of the driver meet mine, and he ducks back into the van right as I start filling the side of it with lead, including the back tyre. I squeeze off every round I have, but he still gets away, speeding off with one tyre squealing while the one I hit sends sparks spraying as the rim spins.
It takes a few moments for my hearing to return, the blood rushing past my ears almost deafening until the soft whimpers of my staff kick me into action.
Sirens sound in the distance, so I know help is on the way, and I dart my eyes around my destroyed salon, trying to find my staff amongst the rubble.
Blood. It’s the first thing I see pooling out from behind one of the barber’s chairs. Sure, there are some other blood splatters around the place, but the amount of blood I’m staring at right now is from someone that can’t be saved.
A sob escapes me as I dart forward, my eyes landing on my apprentice, Joel.
No.
A scream rattles my brain, and I glance up to see Bonnie, clutching her black strands, her blue eyes wide as she looks down at what remains of Joel.
“Fucking roll call!” I scream, needing Bonnie to hear me, as well as the others.
Bonnie stops screaming, her cries turning into sobs as she falls to her knees a foot from the pool of blood.
