Everyone, even Taehyung by some random miracle, all froze at the sound of footsteps. Remy hoped with all her heart that they were all just imagining the sound. Their luck couldn't get any worse, right?
But no, those footprints were definitely real. They were crunching the gravel outside the house. They were coming to the door.
"Maybe it's the person who owns the house?" Hoseok whispered.
Remy doubted it. She also doubted that if by any chance it was the person that owned the house, that person would likely not be happy to see them. She looked up, and her eyes met Namjoon's. It was clear he was thinking the same thing she was.
"Hide," Namjoon said.
Somehow Remy ended up with Taehyung being placed into her arms as she curled up in a small broom closet. It made sense, as it was the biggest hiding spot in the kitchen - she saw Jimin climbing up the chimney that rose above an old fireplace, Jeongguk pulling himself into a cupboard near the sink, and Seokjin lifting his body up into a trapdoor in the ceiling that appeared go to an attic.
Remy shared once last panicked look with Namjoon before the door was closed and she and Taehyung were plunged into darkness.
The door creaked open, and the footsteps were now on old wood flooring. Whatever shoes this person was wearing, they were thick and heavy. Probably boots of some sort.
Sadly, Taehyung chose that exact moment to start whimpering again. The footsteps toward the kitchen became quicker. Remy tried shushing Taehyung, whispering words of comfort, anything to make him be quiet. But it didn't work, and Remy remembered the syringe that was still in her hand, the liquid encased in glass sloshing about.
The idea that went through her head both made perfect sense and filled her with shame. She hated herself for it. But she had to do it. If Taehyung gave them all away, they could all die. Or end up in a situation much worse than dying.
Remy clenched her eyes shut. "I'm sorry," she whispered in Taehyung's ear, even though she knew he couldn't hear her.
Then she found the vein in Taehyung's wrist and empties the contents of the syringe into his arm.
In just a few seconds, his entire body relaxed and fell into her arms. She held him tighter, her heart aching with shame. She realized that she was crying, tears dripping down her chin and into Taehyung's dust-covered hair.
The footsteps came closer, and closer, and now Remy was sure the person was in the kitchen. They stopped. Every fiber of Remy's body tingled with anxious electricity. She was sure she was breathing too loudly. She was sure people on the other side of the world could hear how loudly her heart was beating. Surely that person was going to open that door and they'd be found, all of them.
She kept listening.
And listening.
The silence was almost worse than the footsteps. At least then it gave her something to focus on. But this, this nothingness, that was so much worse. Was it possible that this person was playing mind games with them? Was it possible this person absolutely knew they were there and was just waiting for them to crack and climb out of their hiding places without a fight? Was this person punishing them for being an obstacle in their human trafficking scheme, and was going to let Taehyung bleed out in the middle of nowhere, far from home to set an example?
If that was what was happening, then that was probably the cruelest thing to happen to them yet. Torture of the body is bearable. Torture of the mind will drive you insane.
The long, silent minutes dragged on. There were no more footsteps. There was nothing on the other side of that door. Remy pressed her hand tighter onto Taehyung's abdomen.
Don't let him die, she silently prayed. Not here. Not now.
She had to fight down the thought that arose, telling her that it was entirely possible that she would be the one that killed him, but giving him that shot without measuring it at all. Maybe he would die anyway because she couldn't calm him down.
God, what was that person doing?
Remy thought that maybe the person had walked away and she just hadn't heard. But she couldn't convince herself of that for a second. She was listening far too intently for her to have not heard.
Hours could have gone by. Remy wouldn't have known.
She raised her other hand to Taehyung's chest. There was a heartbeat. He was still alive.
Please, she prayed.
There was a sound, then. The sound of rain falling on the house, on the metal roof. The sound of water meeting desert.
More time passed.
Then, there was a creaking sound. Remy's heart raced before she realized that it wasn't the sound of footsteps, but rather the sound of a cabinet opening. Someone was leaving their hiding place.
Remy held her breath, sure that the next thing she would hear would be a gun firing. But there was nothing, just some shuffling. Bare feet walked to the closet, and then Remy found herself staring into Jeongguk's terrified, red-rimmed eyes.
Slowly, other people began to emerge. Jimin literally fell from his hiding place. He was covered in ancient black soot and his arms were shaking from having to hold himself up for so long, but he was alive. Seokjin opened up the trapdoor and stared at them apprehensively. One by one, they all uncurled themselves from their positions and looked around anxiously.
Someone lifted Taehyung from Remy's arms, and she was grateful for a moment before she saw in the dim light that her arms were covered in rust-colored blood. She wrapped them around herself. Her dress was stained with it, too.
"I didn't hear them leave," Jimin whispered, his eyes darting around the room as if he were expecting the person to jump out. Then again, they were all doing that.
Remy shook her head to say that she hadn't, either.
But Taehyung was still bleeding, he still had a bullet that needed to be removed, and there didn't seem to be any immediate threat. So they did the most logical thing: they got the bullet out.
"Why is he so still?" Hoseok asked nervously. He was gnawing on his fingernails.
Remy's throat went dry. She looked back to the closet, where the syringe was still on the floor. She would have to tell them.
"I injected that drug," she said.
She got three different looks that clearly read No shit.
"What was the drug?" Jimin asked.
And here's the part where someone would strangle her. She considered using the scientific name of the drug but figured that would only give her a few more seconds. Might as well just say what it is, and just leave out one detail.
"A tranquilizer."
That seemed to satisfy them for now, but Remy knew that they would ask for more details later if the confused look on Jimin's face gave any indication.
The truth was, the drug had been a very specific type of tranquilizer. Specifically, it was a sedative designed for horses.
She had wanted to measure the amount. She had wanted to do so many things. But she had panicked. Remy buried her face in her hands as Seokjin wrapped a ripped shirt around Taehyung's wound. When it was over with, she went to pick up the syringe and was beyond relieved to see that there was still some of the liquid left. By some fluke, she hadn't injected all of it.
Maybe Taehyung would be okay. She would still have to apologize over and over, but maybe he would be okay.
"Hey, where's the gun?" someone asked.
Shit, the gun. Where had Remy left it? Trying to swallow down her panic, she followed her footsteps from before and found it on the ground near the mirror. She had dropped it? She didn't remember. She also didn't know how their intruder had missed it, it was in plain sight.
Remy put the gun into one of the kitchen cabinets. She could look at it later, the storm was just barely starting. They would be stuck in that house for a long time.
Jeongguk walked to the decrepit kitchen sink and pulled on the handle. There were a few loud clangs, then some brown water sputtered out before finally, some clean well water began to pour out.
"The water works," Captain Obvious said. Sarcasm aside, Remy was relieved. She felt like she was covered in an inch thick of grime and blood, and the others didn't look so great either. Seokjin wandered off and found a bathroom with a shower, and announced they all needed to get cleaned up. Nobody argued, and Remy silently decided she would go later. As gross as she felt, all of the boys looked much worse. (She assumed. She still hadn't seen her own reflection.)
There was a parlor attached to the kitchen. While it wasn't impressive, it had two armchairs, a softa, and a large window that Remy could watch the storm through. Besides, she needed some time alone for her brain to catch up to the day's events. She wasn't alone for very long, though, before she felt that someone else was in the room. She turned her head and found herself smiling at Namjoon nervously running a hand through his hair and holding his jacket.
"You look cold," he said.
Remy hadn't even noticed she was shivering. She gratefully wrapped the jacket around her shoulders, her heart racing when she realized she was wearing Kim Namjoon's jacket. Wow.
And now she was letting her awkwardness show. Her face went hot, and she turned away. "Go take a shower, you look like a character from a Stephen King movie."
He laughed. "You don't look all that great either." He paused, and his face went bright red. "I mean, I didn't mean that, I-"
"I get it, sweetheart." She waved a hand over to the kitchen. "You worry too much."
He smiled again and went back to the kitchen.
Remy tried to cover her blush with a hand, then recognized a familiar scent.
"Um, Joon," she said, and he stopped walking. "Why does your jacket smell like Chanel N°5?"
If he had been blushing before, his face was on fire now.
Remy burst into laughter, and she couldn't believe how light her heart felt.