Preservation

46

The kicking stopped. The shouting stopped. Everything seemed to stop.

It was as if the world had decided to choose this moment to cocoon itself against the chaos and terror that the next few minutes were bound to bring. It was an oasis. A brief reprieve. But it didn't last.

A split second later, a harsh reality came flooding back into the world.

And all hell broke loose.

Kevin felt the kicks stop. But there was no relief to be found. The pain was still very much real, and frantic energy only seemed to get worse as Mason and Stogie started to stomp on the burning length of film in a vain attempt at putting it out.

From what Kevin could tell, what they were doing only appeared to be fanning the flames that grew higher and hotter by the second.

An acrid smell of burning chemicals hit him a second later. The hallway was starting to fill with smoke. Each kick and stop from Mason and Stogie only served to spread it around more. The floor was hardwood. The walls were wood paneling. All of it was like kindling to this strange foreign incendiary that refused to be extinguished.

Kevin managed to get to his knees. His body was bruised and battered but he was pretty sure that nothing was broken.

Looking past Mason and the growing fire, he could see Michelle on the other end of the hallway, still tussling with Hollywood. She was doing a good job swatting at him with her attaché case, but he seemed determined to grab her.

Getting to his feet, he took a step toward them, angry and determined to intervene.

He was stopped by a strong hand that grabbed him by the scruff of the neck. A second later he was spun around and brought face to face with Stogie, who glared at him with a white-hot anger that rivaled the conflagration that steadily grew all around them.

By now, Kevin had had enough, and he brought his right knee up, slamming it into Stogie's crotch with everything he had.

The larger man's eyes went wide as he let out a shocked gasp. A second later, his face contorted into the most painful expression that Kevin had ever seen followed by a shriek of agony that mirrored it perfectly. As if incapable of anything else, Stogie grabbed his balls with both hands and went down.

Before Kevin could even register the victory, he heard his sister scream.

Turning, he watched, horrified as Mason struggled with Michelle.

Hollywood was lying on the floor, immobile with a bloody gash on the side of his right temple. Kevin could only conclude that she'd managed to clock him hard upside the head with the sharp corner of her case. But now, the much larger and stronger Mason was there. And worse, he was going for the gun.

Michelle had dropped the case and was trying her best to keep a grip on the gun, but she was no match for Mason. With a quick jerk, he wrenched the gun from her grip and backhanded her across the face with his free hand. Michelle went down on her butt, her hand going straight to her left cheek that was already beginning to bruise and swell.

Mason was still clutching the van keys in that hand. He let go of them, dropping them to the floor. With the hand now empty, he reached into his pocket and came up with a handful of bullets. The gun's cylinder came open a moment later and he began feeding them into it one by one.

Kevin knew that this was it. He only had one move left.

Getting to his feet, he started to run straight at Mason, ignoring the pain in his joints and muscles.

Things seemed to slow down, like he was trying to run tough a mucky swamp as Mason continued to load the weapon.

Four rounds. Five. On the sixth round, Mason closed the cylinder, the revolver fully loaded.