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His question is cut off as the prospect’s head reels back, blood and bone spraying from the side of it before he drops to his knees. We barely have a chance to process what’s happening before the men pour inside the door, guns drawn, their faces filled with pure rage.
The Black Hoods. They’re here.
PRIEST
The soundof the gunshot coming from far off in the main room hits my ears like the bullet itself, shattering my heart and my hope. He shot her. He fucking shot Boo, and it’s my fault. I brought her into this. I asked her to help me, knowing full well that she was in just as much danger as I was.
And now she’s dead.
I fall back away from the bars, my hands battered and bloodied from punching and pulling on them in my desperation to get to Boo. My back hits the far wall and I sink to the floor, my head in my hands, ignoring the yelling and screaming now coming from the other room.
None of it matters now. Boo is dead, and soon, I will be too, and I deserve to be. As much as I don’t deserve to die here at the Screwballs’ hands, I do deserve to die after putting Boo in danger. My death is inevitable. I just hope they stop their arguing down there and hurry the fuck up, because my soul is ripping to shreds as I think about the pink-haired girl and how brave she’s been to survive in this place, and all for nothing.
Another gunshot rings through the air, but I’m too deep in my sorrow to give a shit. And then another, and another. Three more gunshots follow.
I pause in my self-torture and frown. Why so many shots? Surely Boo was taken out with the first one. And if that hadn’t worked, only one more would’ve been sufficient.
Lifting my head, I strain my ears, hoping to catch the words coming from behind the closed door at the end of the long hall. Shouts and screams continue, but I can’t make out the words.
When I hear the door slam open, followed by heavy footsteps approaching, I clamor to my feet and rush over to the bars, ready to die, but not about to take my death sitting down. I’ll look these fuckers in the eyes as they take me out. I’ll haunt their fucking memories until their dying breath.
When the first man comes into view, I’m fully expecting to see Big Dick, or even Alan. Instead, it’s Judge who comes to the front of my cell, the heavy metal key already in his hand.
“You ready to come home, asshole?” he asks, a hint of a smirk on his lips.
Relief hits me like a brick wall, knocking the air from my lungs as I stare back at him through the bars. I have no words. Less than a second ago, I was waiting to die, and now that the cavalry is here, I’m frozen in place.
Judge puts the key in the lock, releasing the door with a heavy metal thunk. “Jesus, look at you,” he mutters as he slides the door out of the way and steps inside. “These assholes really fucked you up.”
“Boo,” I say, staring into Judge’s eyes, knowing I’m not making any sense.
Judge frowns. “What?”
I shake my head, frustrated, because I know I sound like a fucking moron, but I don’t have time to explain. Pushing past Judge, I move down the hallway to the door, hobbling as I go, ignoring the stabbing pain tearing through my entire body.
Judge doesn’t ask any more questions. Without a word, he follows me, a gun in his hand, ready to fire as I approach the open door. Through it, I can see a girl in a chair, slumped to the side, tears streaming down her face, but it’s not Boo.
Stepping out into the main room, my gaze skips over the three men lying on the floor. One dead, and the others with their hands on the back of their heads with StoneFace towering over them, the barrel of his gun moving from one to the other, a wordless threat that he will absolutely blow them away if they move so much as an inch.
A flash of pink catches my eye, the only hint of beauty in this place. Moving faster than my broken body should, I approach, my heart a motionless rock in my chest. She’s tied to a chair that’s been tipped to the side. Her eyes are closed, her mouth open in a silent scream. Blood trickles from her head, the line snaking across her forehead and over her nose, before joining the small pool on the floor beneath her.
As I reach her, I crouch, taking her chin in my hands. “Boo! Boo! Baby, wake up. Boo?”
She doesn’t respond. Her hands are bound at the wrist behind the chair, and her ankles are tethered to the front legs, which has toppled to the side with her, it’s unconscious prisoner.
“Knife!” I shout, my bloody and swollen fingers working at the knots. “I need a fucking knife!”
TK steps forward, a buck knife in his outstretched hand. He looks worried as I snatch it, and begin frantically sawing away at the thick ropes.
“Boo!” I call, the rope tearing free one tiny thread at a time. “Fuck. Somebody help me!”
The chatter in the room falls silent as the others draw closer.
“Here, man. Let me.” StoneFace kneels down beside me and places his hand on mine, pausing my struggle with the rope.
I hand him the knife, but I don’t take my eyes off of Boo’s face as he frees her body from the chair. As soon as she’s free, I fall to the floor and pull her into my lap, covering her naked body the best I can while cradling her like an infant. The blood is coming from a gash just above her hairline, the edges of the wound singed. A bullet graze.
“Boo,” I say, turning her face toward me.
