Eyes Open {Book 1}

Chapter 24

I didn't want me to be Harry's only thought. He had other things to worry about. He stayed silent for what felt like minutes before he finally answered, looking defeated.

"Fine." He rubbed his hand up my arm, warming my skin from the night's air. "But any sign of trouble, get back out here." I smiled at him, nodded my head, then pecked him on the cheek.

I walked, slightly slow, into the bright gas station. A man stood behind the cashier counter. Three fourths of his stouty body was covered by the average sized counter. The wall of cigarettes behind him looked like a place he belonged. Like the cigarettes hugged him tightly, friending him because he had none in life. His fat hand rubbed his stubbly chin as he stared at me, suspiciously. I didn't mind, I guess. Working at a gas station in the middle of nowhere in the middle of the night could be a dangerous job. With all the gas station shootings and robberies that showed up on the news everyday was insane. He could be the next target. How could there be so many people in the world who's minds resulted in death; in blood?

If there was a God, how could someone so holy and pure make so many mistakes? Why put these vial, evil people on this planet to ruin his other creations that went right, that deserved to live on this dirt and soil?

Another man stood in front of the fridge of drinks, like deciding on a beverage was the hardest thing he could do in life. He pursed his mouth, his hands on his hips as he bit the inside of his mouth. He was tall and lanky. His dark, jet black hair shined underneath the lights covering the leaking, poorly insulated ceiling.

The air conditioning was freezing the air inside. The goosebumps on my arms had to visible to the man at the counter who was half way across the store. I couldn't help myself from shivering. I honestly couldn't tell if the shivers were from the cold or the fear that now permanently coursed through my veins.

I weaved through the aisles, looking for any kind of medicine to numb the pain shooting up my back. Beef jerky, chips, candy, etc. loitered the aisles until I turned into the last aisle, finding the drug aisle. Hallelujah sang in my head and I could already feel the pain relieving itself at theought of swallowing those small pink pills.

I stood on my tiptoes, peeking over the aisle and out the window. Harry leaned against the side of the crap car, his hands in his pockets, as Mikey filled up the gas tank. Harry looked impatient, occasionally bouncing slightly and shifting the weight on his feet.

Suddenly, before I could process why Harry's eyes suddenly went wide and why he began to run, glass began to explode. Windows bursting around me. Bags of snacks bursted open, various finger foods showering the floor. As the doors of the fridges shattered behind me, I realized the small holes created in the glass and walls were bullet holes. Ignoring my pain, I dove to the ground, covering my head with my hands. I armies crawled across the tile floor, various objects raining down on the back of my body, some landing right on my original bullet wound, but ignored it, continuing to crawl.

I crawled around the corner of the aisle, but stopped. I gasped as I saw the indecisive beverage man dead on the floor. A pool of blood, the size of his body, gathered beneath him. Blood dripped down the corner of his mouth. Multiple bullet holes covered his chest. His eyes were wide open, staring at me. Even though he was dead, I feel like I could see the blame swimming inside his cold eyes. Suddenly, the bullets stopped.

The door bell on top of the store's door rang, indicating someone coming in. I held my breath, scooting back into the aisle as quietly as possible. The sound of glass crunching under feet echoed through the store. 

"She has to be in here." A masculine voice spoke. 

"What if she's dead? There's no way she survived that." Another voice said. 

"Then we find her body and we take it to him." The first voice spoke. "Andrew would want to see it for himself that she's really dead." Shit, they were definitely here for me. 

I could feel them getting closer, the echo of crunching getting closer. I was doomed. I closed my eyes as the thought of dying approached. This was the end. 

I was waiting, waiting for the pain to come. For blackness to consume me forever. 

"Oh, Christy..." They sang. "We know you're in here." Chills ran up my spine and skin. I wanted so desperately to yell Harry's name, but that could give me away and they could kill me right here before my voice even reached Harry's ears. 

This was it. It was coming. 

Before they could take another step, bones crunching echoed through my ears. The sounds of fists hitting their targets and the screams of pain was all that was heard. I clenched my eyes shut tighter, afraid to see anymore blood spilled then two bodies fell in front of me at my feet. I began to sob, burying my head in my elbows as they rested on my knees. My chest felt tight and I didn't even really know what I was crying over but I needed to let it out. To just cry. 

I jumped, flinging my head up, as a large hand rested on my face and another on my knee. I opened my eyes, letting them adjust to the light. 

"Harry?" I cried as his face came into focus. He gave me a sympathetic smile, setting the machine gun in his hand on the ground. The same gun I assumed they used to shoot up this place. "They-they were here for me," I hiccuped between sobs. "And now people are dead because of it. Is the cashier dead too?" I watched as he nodded slowly causing me to sob harder. 

"Come on. Let's get you out of here." He said, lifting me to my feet. The pain in my back was still there. Looks like I was never going to get my Advil now. I wrapped my arms around his torso as I cried into his chest, soaking his tshirt. 

"Why," Hiccup. "Why is he doing this to me?" I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think. Everything was spinning. 

"I don't know." He said, stroking my hair. "I don't know... but we'll figure it out." He began to walk, taking me with him. I was walking blindly, but I trusted him.

I trusted him with my life, but too bad, my life was hanging on a thread, about to be cut. 

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