Final Call for Mercy

44

The first door we encounter is shut and I look behind to make sure I'm covered before turning the knob and slipping inside. I'm barely halfway in before the rustle of movement to my left makes my hand shoot out. Cold metal touches my palm and I react with only enough time to not have my hand blown off. The bullet flies right over my shoulder and the door slams into the man with enough force to make him stumble.

Well, there goes the silent approach. All that tiptoeing up the stairs means jack shit now.

I pull out a blade, slide over to the man and slash his neck. The blood flicks to the ground and on my hand, its warmth like liquid fire on my cold skin. Gabriel reaches out to stop his heavy fall, placing him on the ground with a muted thud.

We scatter out of the room. Now that a sound went off, it's a race against time. We've killed our only advantage.

The heavy sounds of blood dropping from my knife follow behind as I waltz into the next room. The man twirls to face me upon my arrival with frantic eyes, a clip in one hand and a seemingly unloaded gun in the next. Maybe our advantage isn't so dead.

I shoot forward, knocking the gun off his hand and plunging the knife into his throat, right through the vocal cords. His hands drops the clip and go for his bleeding throat. I push him back and he falls, the blood painting the sheets of the bed.

The three of us walk back toward the stairs, toward the others. Veronica leans against the wall, her gun hanging from her hand. She straightens as we come closer. Mateo comes out of the room, the tips of his fingers soaked in blood. Nicolas, coming out right behind him, holds up one finger, to which I respond with holding up two. So far, three are down.

We have no idea how many are left.

When we saw the layout of the house, there were five bedrooms on the second floor. Two must have been used to keep Daniela and Jessica. The other three were for the guards to sleep. We already found those three. Now we have to figure out which of the two holds Daniela.

As if reading my mind, Mateo points behind him. It'd be the only direction. My side of the house only had three doors, one of them being the bathroom, as discovered by Diego. I nod at Mateo and take the lead, holding my knife out in front of me. We walk up to the next door and I hold my breath as I turn the door knob. 

Nothing. It's empty inside. Only a twin sized mattress laying on the floor and a blanket bunched on top. Not even a pillow. There's a small bloodstain on the wall and my stomach roils. This must have been Jessica's room.

I walk out and shake my head. They get the message. She's not there. I take the lead again for the next room. Mateo walks closer to me this time. I know he feels it. We all feel it. A suffocating tension that twists my skin and makes my fingers throb. I feel my pulse everywhere. This is it. This has to be it.

I wrap my hand around the knob of the last possible door. Slowly, it moves... moves... moves... locks. The door is locked. I gulp. I don't even have to listen to the rustling on the other side of the door to know our cover is blown. We need to act fast. If they feel cornered they might put Daniela in danger.

I take a step to the side and Diego rushed to the door, tearing it open with a single kick. Everyone gets ready behind me. I move in, knife out and ready to slash.

My head snaps back and pain shoots up my face. I curse, holding a hand to my bleeding nose as someone lunges for my attacker. I didn't see that one coming. My knife is useless in my hand as I try my best to refocus my vision. That punch was packed with power. I'm surprised I'm even conscious right now. The commotion in the background grows louder with every passing second, but I'm unable to concentrate. I stumble and my back eventually hits the wall. Get it together, Anastasia. I shake my head, if only for the illusion of composure, and start moving again.