Harrington 3

Kicked in the Teeth

"I'll get more out of the boy, bring her back," he says, and I laugh for real this time.

"Seriously? You're just giving up?" I scoff, "Wow. You're not setting a very good example for your children, young Olga and Dmitri. What would they say if they found out that—"

He cuts me off by punching me in the nose, making excellent contact, through not enough to break it. Blood gushes out of my nostrils, and I yelp with the sudden, unexpected pain. He seems satisfied as the other man picks me up, and yet I still manage to crack a grin as I'm dragged to face him.

"What is so funny?" Stalin asks, seething at the fact that I'm not crying.

I just shrug, unable to hide my glee.

"Maybe it's the foggy mind. Or it could be the blood Russian down my face," I say, waggling my eyebrows at my own joke as he just watches me get pulled out, obviously not amused. I am shoved into a new room, where my brother sits guarded by three Russians. He looks up when he hears me enter, anger coming over his features as he sees my state.

"Hey, I told you not to lay a hand on her!" He shouts at my interrogator.

"She needs to know when to shut up," Stalin spits back, and Steve and I look at each other before shrugging, his anger fading away.

"Yeah, fair enough."

"Now you," Stalin says darkly, nodding at the man to bring my brother forth. Steve struggles, but essentially loses the battle and is taken away. I feel a slight anger in my bones, but remind myself that if I got out barely scratched, I'm sure Steve will be fine.

Though something tells me they won't go as easy on him, and something tells me he won't be cracking jokes in the face of the scary Russian man.

As I sit on the floor, my hands tied in front of me and my eyes scanning over the few Russian guards, I try to think of a way out of this mess. Our only real hope is Dustin and Erica at the moment, and I pray that they have made it back to the elevator, though the chance is unlikely.

If we do manage to get out of here, we would hardly be in the clear. Considering these dimwits are trying to reopen the gate for whatever reason, we've definitely got some more stuff to deal with. I bet Will, Mike, Lucas, El, and Max are at the mall right now, just lounging around and completely clueless to what's happening beneath them. I bet Mike is still trying to win El over, and Max and Lucas are fighting over practically nothing. I bet Will is sitting there wishing everyone would just calm down so we could play Dungeons and Dragons again. I smile at the thought. Out of all of my friends, I miss him most of all right now. It makes me sad thinking that I might never see him again; I didn't even say a proper goodbye.

I lean backwards until I'm lying on my back, my knees bent and one leg crossed over the other. I stare at my beaten down sneakers before glancing at one of the Russians and nodding at it.

"They teach you how to tie shoes in communist school?" I ask, and he looks at me, his unimpressed look signalling that he knows English and understood what I said. I sigh, "Hey man, if I'm gonna die here, I want to die with both my shoelaces done up, or else I'll just look like an idiot."

He looks at his Russian friend, who just shrugs, before grunting and walking forth to my shoe. I wait for him to lean down and then bring my foot up, hitting him right in the face and sending him falling backwards. I then roll myself up as the second Russian comes at me, managing to duck under his swinging arm and kicking him in the kneecap. He yells out in pain and I take the chance to run, out the door I came through and right into the chest of Stalin himself. He immediately grabs me by the hair and tugs my head backwards so I'm forced to look up at him.