Will ran as he’d never run before through the long hall and into the kitchen, through the doorway and into the laundry room. He saw Variable and plowed into him deliberately, sending the two of them skidding across the floor. The gun, previously pointed at Max, was now on the floor, out of reach.
It was the last clear thing that Will saw before he began to struggle with Variable.
This wasn’t how it was supposed to go.
Luke and Will grappled on the floor, and Luke’s long arm reached out, blindly scratched at the floor in search of the gun.
Will rolled away and stood, fast as a leaping tiger with his eyes on Luke.
But it was too late.
Luke had the gun in his hand as his back slammed into the far wall.
Carefully, he aimed it at Max with steady hands.
Three shots rang out, piercing the air.
When she opened her eyes, she saw Variable. He was sitting on the ground, his back propped up against the wall across from her. Two little circles of red began rapidly expanding on his chest, stark against his white muscle shirt. He looked down at his chest disbelievingly, and his hair fell down over his face. A metal sound clattered through the room as his arm went limp and the gun fell from his hand.
In pain, he looked up at her, and his eyes went wide.
She looked down at herself, clad in her stupid black clingy running shorts and that stupid black sports bra. And between her two breasts, a single hole lay. It was ugly; an ugly, red hole in her chest that was rapidly being flooded with blood. It poured down her chest and collected in her bra between her breasts. Slowly, it dribbled down her stomach.
Her breathing was slow and heavy, and thunderously loud in her ears as she watched herself die.
She looked back up at Luke.
Blood gurgled out of his mouth as he stared at her in horror.
Her breath left her in one solid, steady heap. She felt her legs go out from under her, and her world began to tumble.
“Max!”
Suddenly the tumble stopped, and Will's arms were around her torso. Another metal clanking sounded in the cement room. The gun that she'd hidden in the back of her bra fell to the floor.
His arms strong around her, Will's face was only inches above her. His black hair fell over his face, and over hers as he kissed her over and over.
“You're going to be okay, you're gonna be okay,” he whispered.
She bumped her head to his chest and indulged herself in listening to his heartbeat for a long second.
“Go. Get help,” she murmured weakly.
He kissed her, hot and hard, and gently propped her up against the wall.
“Go,” she said.
He turned, and ran faster than she’d ever seen someone run.
She tried not to think of the fact that she was dying and looked at Luke. There was a wide, bloody pool gathering in his lap. His head was tilted back and leaned against the wall, and his brown eyes, cold and bitter, fixated on her.
“We’re dying,” he spat. Blood sprayed as he spoke, and a few rogue drops dribbled down the corner of his mouth.
Max didn’t flinch as she looked at him.
