|Chapter 10|

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"Is your hair really this curly?" Michael asked. I laughed. We've been playing twenty-one questions for the past fifteen minutes.

I've found out that he joined the service when he was eighteen years old. His mom and dad live in Kentucky, and they don't know about his business with Gregory. He also told me he has two pet fish, which is kind of cute.

"Yes. It is." I laughed out.

"How is that even possible?" He asked, running his hand through it. I sighed, the feeling causing my toes to curl. My grip on the pole tightened.

"I don't know. I get it from my mom, I guess. Now stop it." I swatted his hand away.

"What? You like it." He said. He stuck his hand back into my hair.

"So what? That doesn't mean any— stop, Michael." I said. He started laughing but stopped.

"You see that?" I looked away from him and saw soldiers standing by a Jeep.

"Get down," I whispered. We ducked down behind an abandoned car. My thigh protested with the sudden movement, and I sucked in a breath.

"Do you think they saw us?" I asked.

"I have no idea, but there's a possibility that they did." He whispered back. I sat my head back against the car, my thoughts racing.

We have to do something. We can't just sit here. They're blocking the street we need to get to. Think, Zoey. Think!

I sighed. Hate to say it, but we're going to have to kill them.

"Here," I quickly pulled off my book bag and slipped his assault rifle off the side of it. He grabbed it from me.

"You trust me now?" He asked. I shook my head, slipping my bag on my back. I pulled out my pistol, the metal cold in my hand. I pulled out the clip then pushed it back in, cocking it.

"No, but you can't bring a knife to a gunfight," I said, looking over at him. He chuckled, checking his clip.

"You are right about that."

I peeped around the car and saw they were still in the same spot. It looked like they were just talking to each other.

"Can you move, Zoey?" He asked.

"I was just walking, Michael," I muttered. I heard him grumble something.

"Can you move fast enough?" He asked, annoyance lacing his voice.

"Yeah. I can move fast." I said, laying down my pole. It will just make noise.

"Okay. There are five of them. I can get three of them, and you get the other two." He said behind me. I nodded and ran out. More like limped out.

I got behind a chunk of rubble before moving again.

I kept doing this until I got close enough to hear their conversation.

"... really don't know what he sees in her." One of them was saying.

"Maybe he just wants to get laid. Everyone knows that Michael hasn't been home for six years. He might see this as a chance to get some." They all erupted into laughter, and I felt myself scrunch up my face.

That's just disgusting.

I stood up, pointing my gun at one of them. The man in front of him made eye contact with me, and his eyes went wide.

"Watch out!"

I pulled the trigger, the bullet flying through the air. The bullet penetrated his head, sending his head bashing into the hood of the Jeep. The other men pulled out their guns.

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