The Scarlet Assassin

Chaptet Twenty-Eight

My arm was on fire, limp to my side. I tried to pull myself up. Something pushed me back down. After a split second of confusion, I saw it was Sorin. He put our bags together to form some form of weak shield.

"I'm okay," I protested, trying to sit up again. Another round of gunshots rang out. The others. "Carter," I whispered. He was the only one alone.

"Let me see your arm," Sorin grumbled.

"Go get Carter," I said instead. "I'm fine. It won't kill me."

Sorin did not look appeased. "I don't care. We still need to tie it off." He reached for me again. With my good arm, I stopped him and said,

"Go. Get. Carter." I shoved him away. "Now!"

"No! I'm not leaving you!" He yelled, breathing heavily. He didn't look at me. I swallowed and grabbed the collar of his jacket with my good hand, forcing him to look at me.

"Get Carter and run. Don't look back. I'll be right behind you, Sorin."

"Vera I-" Another round of bullets.

Again, I shoved him. "Go!" Sorin gave me a last look before shooting up and running to Carter. I looked to my left, trying to find Sophie, Rafe, and Ace. I couldn't.

The gunshots stopped. Looking down, I slid my jacket from my shoulder, grimacing. I searched for the exit wound, but couldn't find one. Shit.

I peaked around my bag after hearing running footsteps, expecting to see Sorin and Carter, but it wasn't. It was a man in thick furs, charging at me. He got a shot off at me, but I ducked and it whizzed above me.

Immediately, my good hand was on my knife. I popped up to my knees and threw the blade before the man had time to react. It sunk into his neck. He collapsed and choked on his blood.

I expected that to be it, but I was wrong. My mouth fell open.

Dozens upon dozens of men were charging down for me. Looking around, I caught sight of a dead Targaryen soldier. His gun was lying at his side. Lunging for it, I quickly checked the ammunition. It only had five shots, but it was better than nothing.

Using my bag to shield me, I aimed and shot for the frontman. It didn't hit him.

It's been a while since I've used a gun.

Luckily, the bullet still managed to hit the man, three people, to the right of him. I adjusted from my last shot and hit my initial target in his leg. The other three shots took down three others. But then I was out of bullets.

I was about to run for it but didn't want to take the chance of them shooting me. Then again, I wasn't going to die sitting here like a duck. So, I took my bag on my back and stood, forcing myself to run.

I no longer could see Sorin or Carter or the others. I hoped they got away, hoped they were long gone.

I realized after a second that no more bullets were whizzing. They weren't shooting at me, but I could still hear them running.

I was sprinting up the hill now. They were catching up, but I kept pushing and pushing, forcing myself to keep going because this was not how the Scarlet Assassin died. Each breath felt like a knife to my throat, each step throwing snow behind my heel, but I was almost there.

Of course, though, I've never had great luck.

Another dozen men were at the top, waiting for me. They had blades instead of guns.

I looked back, then to my sides, and realized, with a thundering heart, that I was surrounded.

But I wasn't going down without a fight.