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Something in me broke and as my body took over, I watched Emma’s tiny hands clawing, flailing, fighting for her life with all her might as a much larger man jerked against her, holding her head under a bucket of water.
He lifted her, pulling her back by the scruff of her neck, a bag over her head, and she gurgled, choked and struggled to pull in breath against the sopping wet fabric against her face. Her clothes were ripped in various places, exposing her, and small splatters of blood speckled her clothing. Before she could unleash another scream, or pull in another desperate breath, her head was back under the water.
The shots simultaneously rang out in the air.
I fired one, two, three shots.
I heard gunfire spraying around me.
Four, five shots.
Silence.
And then, finally, the sound of splashing water and Emma gasping for breath again as she pushed herself up out of the water. Coughing, sputtering, gagging as she fought to pull in breath.
Tunnel vision.
Emma and only Emma.
My body took over again, and I moved towards her.
She was in my arms, pulled into my lap in a flash.
She clawed against my arms, leaving my skin open and bleeding as I held her tightly against me.
“You’re safe, it’s Mason, I’ve got you.” I pressed her to me and chanted these words at her until she finally stopped fighting against me and her hands went frantically to the bag on her head.
I felt a growl bubbling up in my throat as I quickly pulled my knife out.
Not only had they put a bag on her head, but they’d zip tied it around her throat. It served two purposes. It made the bag impossible to take off, and even more impossible for her to pull in a full breath in the brief moments between her head being forced back under the water.
I quickly cut the zip tie and pulled the bag off her head.
The look in her eye as the bag came off shattered me.
Her dark eyes filled with wide terror, no relief that it wasmeholding her.
Just fear.
Just unadulterated fear.
She gripped my shirt and finally collapsed against my chest, alternating sputtering coughs with heart wrenching sobs. My heart ached at the sight of her small vulnerable frame trembling in my lap.
We had to hurry. “That’s right, just breathe.” I kept my tone calm, soothing. I flicked my eyes around. I had to get her out of here. Someone would have heard the gunfire. “There you go, that's it, I’ve got you.” I breathed the words into her hair as it touched cool and wet against my lips.
Just before I could pick her up, she turned away and vomited mostly water onto the ground beside us. “You’re alright. I’ve got you now.” I chanted it to her, over and over. An attempt to soothe her.
As I stood up, she was weak against me, hardly able to stay upright, and so I swiftly threw her over my shoulder, but before I could reach for my gun, I pivoted towards the door and my heart sank.
We had company.
I watched in frustration as men with guns drawn on us filed into the room, and one man without a gun finally filed in last.
The unarmed man wore an amused look, smug perhaps. Though the only unarmed person aside from Emma in the room, he seemed well at ease.
I quickly pulled Emma down against my chest and she turned, pressing her face into me, refusing to engage with what was happening in the room. She continued to cough up the water in her lungs, but her breathing, while still rapid and frantic, was slowly starting to come in more controlled gulps.
The unarmed man who stood blocking the door spoke first. “Such a shame.” He motioned to the men I’d murdered in cold blood who laid on the ground bleeding out around us. “They were good men. They were my men.”
