1942
The door was made out of wood, and the shotgun shell shattered it into pieces. Splinters flung to their faces, launching them backward, and stunned them above the floor.
The shooter stood inside the room, aiming his or her gun at Jules and Rake. Glenn and Ezra should’ve heard the gunshot by now unless they were sipping coffees below a rock.
“Rake, you fine?”
“No.”
Jules crawled on the ground. He saw a desk right behind him and he drifted toward it. Another shot rocked the building, missing Jules’ head about five inches.
Three seconds later, a body lunged toward Jules’ hiding spot. It was Rake, and he breathed nervously and clenched his rifle boldly.
“This fucker doesn’t know who he messes around with.”
Another shot and the plywood desk would obliterate to pieces.
“Any idea, Poirot?”
“Actually yes, Hastings.” Rake peered through the hole on the desk. The figure was guarding the room with his weapon aimed to them.
“I’ll distract the bastard. You kill him from the other side!”
“Alright.”
“Give ‘em hell.”
Rake turned and fired more than five bullets with no aim at all. The figure dashed to cover his or her body behind a metal cabinet. The entire floor produced the bouncy sound of the bullets. Everyone in the city could’ve heard them, yet no one from below moved their ass to assist the two soldiers.
“He’s pinned!”
Jules slipped pass trays of papers and chalkboards and desks over desks. He almost alerted the shotgun shooter by stepping on a typewriter.
The figure returned fire and Rake was pinned. He retreated back behind the desk while Jules was moving toward the back door of the room.
Jules arrived at the other end of the room and saw the moving figure. He reloaded the shotgun, ready to fire another round toward Rake.
Jules kicked the door open and it swung before his eyes. The figure jerked backwards, scared. Jules wasted no second as he pinched his rifle’s trigger and the bullet got the shooter right between his eyes. He dropped on the floor with a hole on his head.
“Oh god,” Jules murmured. “This guy’s a Dutch.”
The man slumped beside the cabinet, his head craned left motionless to his shoulder like a sleeping driver. He wore the blue-ish Dutch officer’s uniform and its flag printed on his shoulder confirmed it so.
“Rake! Jules!”
The shout came from the stairs. Two figures arouse from the shadowy part of the building. Glenn and Ezra.
“What the hell took you guys so long,” Jules said as he paced pass the room and joined the other three.
“This is a huge building, man.”
“Rake, you fine?” Ezra asked.
“Not quite.”
Jules noticed Rake was holding his belly like a constipated grandpa. Furthermore, he also noticed that blood dripped down from the slips of his fingers.
“We gotta patch him up. Hurry!” Jules commanded.
“That fucker didn’t even check if we’re friendlies or not.”
“Just calm down, Rake. You’ll be fine. Just a small piece of a shotgun shell, not lethal at all.”
“Maybe, but I’m fucking pissed.”
Rake shouldered on Jules and Ezra as they carefully piloted the injured friend downstairs. They encountered Hal and a Dutch before descending to the first floor.
“Jules! I heard gunshots−Oh my god, Rake. What happened?” John asked.
“A Dutch camped up there. The guy was shooting at us without bother looking first.”
Four more people closed in while Rake tried his best to drop to the bench. He tried so badly to look strong. He hated it when people saw him weak.
Roger arrived in the room with his backpack full of aids. Roger was the medic in their little team, and he was one of the most useful teammates.
Out of nowhere, Jules saw Ava standing behind Rake’s bench. She looked so sadistic. She was holding a piece of a bloodied broken glass in her hand. She stared at Rake intensely.
“Don’t take him, Ava.”
Ava still had her bloody white dress. She then crouched beside Rake, aiming her sharp weapon toward his stomach.
“No!”
Everyone twitched. They all turned on Jules to see what’s up.
“What? I’m trying to do my job here,” Roger shot off.
“Uh yes, sure, of course. I was just not… not myself.”
Jules stormed off. Rake’s eyes followed him until he disappeared.
“That friend of yours is the most loyal, I must say. I can tell you two have been through a lot.”
Rake smiled. “You have no idea, Rog. You have no idea.”
YOU ARE READING
Darkness Dissolves When the Door Opens
Historical Fiction[60.000-70.000 words] Trapped in a Japanese occupied island, Jules West and other allied soldiers were fighting for their survivals. Facing losses and mental breakdown were not their only problems since the whole island tried to kill them. It had b...
