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My second shot hits the next guard in the chest and takes him down. The third guard, however, lowers his weapons and raises his hands.
“Don’t shoot,” he begs, looking down at his feet. “This is just a job for me. I don’t care about any of it. Don’t kill me.”
I gesture for him to drop his weapon, and he does. I take it and the guns from the other two guards, as well.
When I turn to find Rian Morrison, I realize she is gone, having slipped out sometime during the fighting.
That is fine. I’ll find her soon enough.
But first, Eve.
I make it to the entryway, following where I saw Edgar take Eve, before more guards flood in.
I shoot at them in an orderly fashion at first, but my aim quickly grows erratic.
There are too many guards coming from too many directions for me to keep up with.
I pass the main hallway and move towards the dining room and a narrow servants’ hallway I’ve never been in before; all the while I can hear more guards approaching from behind.
Then, suddenly, there is a guard standing in front of me.
I fire, hitting him in the shoulder, but not before he gets me in the leg.
Adrenaline is pouring through me, dampening my senses until the shot is nothing more than a burning sensation. Just heat. That’s all it is. I can handle heat.
I fire again, this time hitting the man in the neck. Blood paints the wall next to him. But then there is another explosion behind me. And fire.
Not real fire, but a deep, throbbing heat coming from my side, and I don’t need to look down to know I’ve been shot a second time.
I spin and fire at the man who shot me, but he darts behind a wall. I turn and keep going.
That is when I see an open door ahead of me. It is dark, and then I see guards coming up a set of stairs.
That must be where Edgar took her.
So, into the basement I go.
I move towards the stairs blindly, firing shots at random, hoping some of them hit their mark because I don’t have the time or energy to aim.
My vision is going black around the edges, and my legs feel heavy and wooden. I try to put one foot in front of the other, but it feels like my right leg is dragging behind me, and before I realize what is happening, I’m face-first on the floor.
I know I need to get up. I know I need to stand and keep moving and fight, but darkness clouds my vision and pushes back my fear. It eases my worries until I let my eyes fall closed and sink into the thin carpet of the hallway.
19
Eve
Edgar’s hand cracks across my face, snapping my head to the side so hard I worry about my neck breaking under the pressure.
“What happened between you and Joel Foli?” he asks for the tenth time.
“I told you.” I spit blood on the concrete floor. “He tried to sleep with me without paying and wouldn’t take no for an answer. I panicked and stabbed him with my wineglass.”
Edgar sighs and paces around the room, his hands folded behind his back.
The space is small. It looks like the servants’ quarters I was first brought to after arriving at the inn, but the furniture and carpeting are gone. If there ever was a window, it was long ago boarded up with cracking plaster. There are only two doors; one that leads to the bathroom and a second that leads to the hallway.
I heard a commotion coming from the front of the inn earlier, but I haven’t heard anything in a while.
