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I stuck it out over my cover position and fired, closing my eyes as I did so. A blanket of blinding light was thrown over the air, followed by cries of pain.
“I can’t fucking see!” shouted a henchman.
Opening my eyes, I exposed myself and readied the rifle. Jocelyn must have grabbed Elara and assumed cover, but some of the others blindly stumbled about. I managed to take one out before the rest started shooting wildly. I had to duck again, but I at least took one of the bastards out.
“Hold your fire!” yelled the shrill voice of Jocelyn. It was so ear-piercing, it may as well have been a weapon in itself. The ringing in my ears from the gunfire intensified. “Draven, show yourself!”
I glanced at the reflection of the glass cabinets. Jocelyn came out from her cover, holding Elara at gunpoint and using her body as a human shield. The goons had their fingers off of their triggers.
“I have one shot left!” exclaimed Jocelyn.
“That’s more of a problem for you!” I replied.
“Not if it ends up in the florist’s head,” she retorted. “Throw your weapon to the floor.”
She was right. Now wasn’t the time for snarky comebacks. I wasn’t out of the woods even if she was low on ammunition.
Still, it could have been a trap. I holstered my pistol, stashing it behind my back beside my sheathed plasma dagger. I raised the barrel of my rifle straight up in the air as I got to my feet.
Everyone’s eyes were on me. Those of the goons were wary, watching my every move. Jocelyn’s were crazed, while Elara’s flooded with tears.
“Easy now. Get rid of that weapon,” said the villain.
“Don’t do it, Draven!” cried Elara.
“It’s all right, Elara,” I said calmly. “Everything’s going to be just fine, I promise.”
“That’s right. Listen to your man,” chuckled Jocelyn.
I lowered the rifle and kicked it across the floor. It was snatched up by a Nazok. I spotted the vials behind Jocelyn, sprouting an idea in my head. It was crazy, but I had to take the chance.
“Jocelyn, your plan isn’t going to work.”
“What?” she hissed.
“Those vials behind you. They’re all shattered to pieces.”
She turned around, as did her few remaining men. My hand shot to the hilt of my knife. I whisked it out of its sheath and sent it hurling through the air.
It went right through Jocelyn’s hand, causing her to let go of both her gun and Elara. My pistol was already in my other hand, the barrel pointed at her men as they turned around too late.
Elara dove for the gun, grabbing it shakily before pointing it at Jocelyn and her goons. We had them surrounded on both sides now.
“None of you fucking move!” I ordered.
The goons’ eyes darted between everyone in the room. Jocelyn groaned in pain, holding her bloodied hand with the knife sticking out of it.
“It’s over, Jocelyn.”
“Do you really think so?” she hissed. “You thought it would be that easy. An injured hand is nothing that immortality can’t fix.”
“I’m surprised you still think you’re getting your hands on that flower serum.”
“The numbers game says I will. There’s only two of you.”
“Don’t try anything stupid,” I snarled.
Jocelyn turned her attention to Elara. “You’ve only gone and made things worse for yourself.” She took a step closer.
