Biting The Bullet

Chapter 4

"Finally got them out of the damn toilets," gruffed Number 4 as he flicked the loudspeaker switch off. 

"How stupid they are. Don't they even want to escape?" said Number 5. Hearing the reverberation in the caliginous room, he froze and clamped his hand over his mouth.

"Keep your voice down!" said Number 4 with a disgusted glare. His fingers twitched into his pocket and ran along an intricate composite of metal. His lips curled into a smile at the thought of the power he held. The destruction it would cause by an effortless pull of the trigger. The termination of worthless, pathetic lives, of lives that prevented the success and glory of his — lives that came in his way in general — and of course in the way of his boss. 

His eyes flashed and fizzed as his mind came to the next step of their plan.

***

It was the group's first time walking through a locality in which they had never been. The breeze whipped into gusts, tossing their hair around messily as they surveyed their surroundings.

A white minibus swerved into view and stopped in front of them. The driver, a man with thick eyebrows and a distinct mustache, reached for a notepad and seemed to be preoccupied. After glancing at one another, they mustered the courage to approach the bus and tap the window. It rolled down and the man peered at them expectantly. 

"Where do you head?" they asked. He named a town. "That's where we're going."

"Get on board," he said with an amiable smile.

They climbed onto the minibus and took a seat behind a man with a black cloak, who sized them up. "Where are your guardians or bodyguards?"

"To cut a long story short, we're escaping from kidnappers," said Richard.

The man's eyes widened. "You mean there are kidnappers nearby?"

"Yeah, and we had to crawl through—"

"There's really no need to state the details," cut in Evangeline.

"I see you have experienced a rather... eventful escapade. It's very nice to meet you, my dear neighbours."

There was a moment of silence. 

"I'm afraid I haven't seen you around before," said George.

"Me neither," said Violet. 

"Oh, I moved in quite recently. I live a bit over the moors, at the edge of the neighbourhood. It's a relatively remote area so I don't blame you."

They looked at each other, but didn't say anything. 

For the next couple of minutes the passengers sat in silence as the bus rumbled on. The speed was higher than normal, which meant they would be safe at home soon. What luck it was that a minibus arrived at that moment! Otherwise God knows how long they would have to walk for.

Yet when they arrived at the junction, the minibus swerved left instead of right. 

"Sir, you're heading the wrong direction," called Kassidy.

"There's been a motor accident on the usual route," the driver called back. 

Arching her eyebrows, she leant back on her seat. They passed rows of small houses, then as the houses grew further apart, there were fewer and fewer by-passers to be seen. In short, they were travelling into some far-off area. But why?

The image of the driver's appearance appeared in her mind. That mustache... it looked off. And those eyebrows... He was definitely hiding something. She turned her head to scrutinise the male passenger. He looked strangely familiar — even though she didn't remember having seen him before. 

There were a few shabby houses — clearly, they were not heading towards home. Rather, they seemed to be heading away from home.

It hit her. That explained the driver's unnatural facial features. How the male passenger claimed to live beyond moors that didn't exist. 

They had fallen into a trap — a trap laid by none other than the crafty kidnappers themselves. The whole time they thought they had so cleverly escaped, and were on their way home. Talk about getting caught off-guard.

Kassidy's face grew white and her lips trembled. "Are you alright?" asked George.

She quickly resumed a neutral expression as the male passenger turned to look at her. When he turned his head back, she whispered to her friends, "The two men are the kidnappers."

"How do you know?"

"There's no time to explain. We have to run." Without warning, her hand shot up to wrench off the hammer on the side and she broke the glass window in one aim. She tugged George's arm and the two tumbled out of the minibus onto the mossy pavement, with Evangeline in tow. They scrambled up and started running. The others tried to follow but were prevented with brute force. Her heart sank for them and she hoped they could escape later. 

The only thing she had in mind was: Run. The only reaction her body knew was: Run. She ran like she'd never had before. 

A bullet brushed past her leg, scraping off some skin. She winced hard. It burnt like fire but a fire in the leg wasn't going to stop her. Taking deep breaths, she tried to distract herself from the pain. 

Wait, where was George?

She looked back, the chemicals in her body flowing fast. There he was, lying down on the ground with a pool of blood from his hip. 

The gangster was advancing towards them. If she turned back now there was a high chance she would get shot. 

But she could get shot anyway even if she kept running. Just a matter of distance.

With limps she flew towards him. He moaned as she heaved him up and carried him, using herself as his shield. She continued to keep running, with Evangeline beside her. 

Suddenly, Evangeline crumpled onto the ground. From her chest emanated a pool of fresh blood. She didn't move — didn't even make a sound. 

Kassidy gasped and choked, eyes pricking. Her best friend!

Her legs grew weak and she tumbled to the ground. Her muscles no longer obeyed her orders. There was scarcely any energy left in her, only enough to hug her brother close. Her shirt was ensanguined with crimson anguish flowing from his hip. 

She kissed him gently. "I'm sorry I couldn't protect the both of us. My timing was all wrong. We could have lived longer if we stayed there."

He whimpered before saying, "What you did was brave. You know, you've acted courageously and resolutely throughout the entire process. From the time you comforted me when I was near to tears, till now, coming back for me and trying to get us both to safety. Even though you didn't manage to do so, you tried to, and that's what counts. Luck just wasn't on our side, and you're not to blame for that. Kassidy, I love you."

"I love you too, George."

There they lay, waiting for the approach of the gunman and their fateful end.

----------------------

A/N:

Oh no!! What's going to befall them?

Something unrelated to the plot: Currently what I have there ('The Escape') is a working title. I'm trying to think of something better, and I might change the book cover to go with it. So if you see anything different there please don't freak out, it's still this same story on gunshots, urgent thinking and desperate tears.