Chapter 23
Louise had found herself sitting on the arm of the sofa when the glass doors exploded inwards. The sudden shock, especially given her already delicate state, made her instinctively fall backwards which may just as well have saved her life. Seconds later when the sounds of gunfire began, Tomas likewise rolled over the top of the sofa and landed harshly and unceremoniously on top of her.
Given normal circumstances, she might have enjoyed the experience but when an intense headache and urge to vomit coupled with their impending situation she didn’t even have an inward flutter. He apologised profusely and managed to get himself low down next to her as she watched plaster fly from holes in the walls.
The back of the sofa exploded in a round hole at moment and then suddenly there was deafening silence, juxtaposed with the storm there had been before it only served to make her headache worse.
“Andrew!” she called out, wanting to know what had happened but being unable to tell whether she was whispering or shouting. There was an endless cavern of a reply before she got back an,
“I’m here.”
She rolled onto her front and peered under the sofa finding out that not only would their AirBnB host not be getting high marks for the dust bunnies under it but that what had imploded the French windows had been a sun lounger. From the glint of metal on the other side of the pool, she could figure by whom – had, in fact, survived a car being used in much the same way two years ago.
The second figure, dressed in black fatigues, did not seem as obvious to her – nor was she particularly inclined to question given their current predicament.
“Here would be?”
“Over here,” came the reply. She looked up from her position and saw Andrew and Rick behind the breakfast counter – or what was remnant of the breakfast counter. Inside she felt herself relax a notch knowing he was okay. Only a notch, it was still far from over.
“What do we do?” she asked him, his look clouded.
She heard the cold click of a second magazine clicking into place – she’d heard it enough times on those stupid movies Andrew watched to know what it meant. Seconds later the second hail of bullets tore through the living area – pulling apart everything they came into contact with. When it was over only the soft feathers of the cushions floating gently down remained in the air.
“This is a distraction,” Rick snapped at them, “Whatever they want to do it’s to have Ben in that Temple with that stupid bloody orb without our interference. Stacey keeps Sandy busy, like red rag to a bull, and we get the two for one special on psychos. What we need is a distraction of our own.”
He pointed his gaze directly at Andrew next to him who subtly nodded. She didn’t like the way it was going, worse she hated the look he then directed their way because it was not directed to her. Instead, Andrew’s gaze levelled at Tomas.
“When it starts, you get her out of here, out of that back door and across those fields. Do not stop running until it’s over.”
“Don’t you dare…” Louise snapped at Andrew, pissed beyond belief. But it was too late. Andrew and Rick shared a look and their bravado began.
Rick’s eyes closed as the pool exploded upwards in a shower, blocking simultaneously their view of Cyvus and his companion and vice versa. Andrew disappeared in a puff of smoke and she heard the sounds of fighting on the other side. Angel, who had been taking refuge behind the second couch now rushed to assist him.
She, meanwhile, felt herself roughly manhandled to her feet and despite attempting to go after Andrew was grabbed by the wrist and dragged by Tomas out of the back door, stumbling into the blinding dry sunlight. She practically felt her arm dragged out of her socket as they raced across the empty field, stumbling on the occasional rock.
Eventually, he stumbled, probably wishing for even the flimsy protection of his flip flops. As he fell, he cried out, she briefly saw the awful angle his ankle went in the furrow before he collapsed to the ground. He let go and she skidded to a stop before she ended up going over him.
They were far enough from the villa that she could no longer hear any sounds of shouting or screaming or commotion. Thankfully there were no more gunshots. She turned, caught for a moment between the cries of pain she heard from the man next to her and her desire to turn and run back to the villa – to stand by Andrew despite his stupid misogynistic chivalry. She hesitated for longer than she ever thought she would, longer than she would admit before finally the medical professional in her won out and she knelt next to her injured companion.
He was biting his bottom lip hard, almost hyperventilating. She could see why – it must have been a bad break if the already rapid swelling of his ankle were any indication.
“This is going to hurt,” she warned him, then realised how stupid it sounded so added, “Well, a hell of a lot more.”
In the distance she heard the sound of an engine, allowed herself a moment up from her work tending to Tomas to see a car, the car they had arrived in, peeling out from the villa’s estate. She could not see inside the tinted windows but seconds later she saw a sight that gave her hope. A pair of white feathered wings, following the car in the direction of the town shimmering like a mirage in the distance.
She got back to work.