Blood Hunt (Blue Blood Babies sequel!)

Chapter Twenty-one

Chapter Twenty-one

The soft slap of our trainers against the asphalt was as loud in my ears as my thundering pulse as we edged forward towards the final turn that would take us within sight of the gatehouse.  We’d shifted over so that the tall height of a building – smoking gently, all but burned out – provided some modicum of cover.  We were incredibly conspicuous, though. Anybody suddenly appearing in the road before us would see us at once.  There wasn’t anything we could do about that, unfortunately.

“You really think everybody’s just abandoned us here?” I asked in an undertone as we crept forward.

“Looks like it,” Connor muttered back.  “Did you see anybody back there trying to save people?”

No, I hadn’t.

“And do you see anybody trying to put out the fires?”

No, I didn’t.

“In fact, do you see anybody anywhere?”

Another no.  Connor’s logic was hard to argue with.  I felt hate solidifying in veins against the evil tossers who had imprisoned us here then run like rats from a sinking ship when trouble hit. 

“Bastards,” I hissed.

“Pretty much,” Connor agreed.  Strangely he didn’t seem to be as angry about it.  But then, he’d never trusted them, not at all.  And they’d acted, it seemed, just like he thought they would.

We coasted to a stop in tandem.  One more step and we’d be able to see around the corner.  One more step and anybody around the corner would be able to see us.  I tried to take a deep breath, wanting to calm my pounding heart, but there was a lead weight in my chest and my lungs wouldn’t inflate. 

“Ready?” Connor whispered.

I wasn’t, but I nodded at him anyway.  Slowly, cautiously, we learned around the edge of the building concealing us, craning our necks to get the gatehouse in view.  There it was – the way out.

“Christ,” Connor muttered.

The first thing I noticed was the damage to the building itself.  The windows had all been smashed and the thick pillars that held the long barriers poles had been broken apart as if the concrete was nothing more than sand.  My breath blew out in a gust when I registered that.  What sort of weapon could do that?  Certainly something bigger than the guns currently blasting apart the accommodation blocks.

The second thing I saw was that the gatehouse was occupied.  It was far away, but I could just make out the blurry edges of silhouettes moving within the small square building.  And if the bodies littering the ground around the entranceway were anything to go by, it wasn’t the facility security guards in there.

Terrorists.

I felt pressure on my shoulder as Connor tugged me back.  I turned to him and his face was ashen, his eyes wide and horrified.

“Come on,” he mouthed, gesturing back to where Maggie waited.

We ran this time.  Running away from what we’d seen; running back to make sure Maggie was safe.  She was.  She stood as we approached, relief etched across her features.

“Well?” she asked as soon as we were within earshot.

Connor shook his head, puffing out gasps even though we hadn’t gone very far.  He leaned against the bin store for support, his face still a sickly shade.

“No go,” he panted.

“What did you see?”

“That’s definitely how they got in,” I told her.  “They’ve smashed the place up a bit, and it looks like they shot up the guards who were on duty.”