Callin
“No!” Louis shouts.
He takes one step towards the door, and I grab his arm and pull him back.
And then he's screaming and crying and fighting to get away from me, and I'm holding his arms behind his back and somehow, impossibly, keeping him here with me.
“How could you?” he keeps screaming, over and over again.
And my mind is telling me the same thing, but somehow I manage to ignore it, to forget about blame for now and just keep Louis here, safe, with me.
That was a gunshot.
No question.
And I know better then to assume anything, but I know what it sounds like.
Eventually, the fight leaves Louis.
He sags against me, his tears slowing but not disappearing, no longer screaming.
He just whispers something, over and over.
When I lean forward, I can hear what he's saying.
“I have to save Harry.”
I let go of him, still partially expecting him to run for the door, but he just turns around to look at me.
“You just killed two of my best friends” he says softly.
And then he collapses against my chest, sobbing,
I hold him against me, stroke his hair.
I took a gamble and I bet wrong.
I thought they wouldn't shoot Niall because they wanted Louis. But I should've known better. Because they shot at me, two weeks ago in the house. And they wanted Louis then, too.
So I thought wrong, I guess.
How many mistakes do we have to make?
How many of us have to get hurt?
-
Niall
I shut the door behind me, and take a cursory look around the building. And I can't see more then about twenty metres in front of my face. It's pitch black in here. But I can tell I'm standing in a huge, empty space. Whatever used to be here is gone now. It's just space.
“Louis Tomlinson?” a voice says.
I don't bother saying anything.
They'll realise they're wrong soon enough.
I hear a gunshot, the familiar crack of a bullet leaving the barrel.
And then the pain rips through my arm.
Again.
I don't mean to, but I gasp. My hand flies up to asses the damage, and I'm not doctor, but it feels deep to me.
Not again.
Someone walks out of the shadows.
A man.
“Where's Louis Tomlinson?” he asks me.
“Why do you want him so badly?” I reply, clamping my hand down over the wound. It's wet with blood.
“It shouldn't matter to you” the man says. “Were you hit?” he sounds almost . . . concerned. As if he cares about me.
But he doesn't.
“You shot me” I hiss angrily.
The blood is seeping through my fingers, and when my eyes flick to it for a moment, my hand is stained red.
“I didn't mean to hit you” the man says. I glance at his hand, where he's casually twirling a gun around and around.
“Yeah” I say bitterly, the pain leaking into my voice. “Yet you shot me.”
“I shot at you” the man replies. “To scare you. I didn't want you to leave.”
“Yeah, because that makes sense” I reply. “Didn't really think that one through, did you?”
“You didn't leave” he replies. I ignore him.
“Just tell me why you want to kill my friend” I say. The man shrugs.
“I don't” he says. “I just owe someone that does.”
“Let Harry go” I say.
“I will” he replies. “I just need Louis first.”
“Tell me why” I hiss, tightening the grip on my arm. It's throbbing, pulsing, and it feels like the pain is slowly destroying me.
“I can't” he replies. “But if you go outside, get Louis, and bring him in here, I'll make sure that you, Mr. Styles, and the girl walk out alive.”
“I won't bring Louis to his death” I say angrily.
“Then I can't guarantee anyone's safety” the man says. “Sorry.”
“Please” I groan. My vision starts to blur. My hand is no longer doing any good, and I know I've lost too much blood.
Behind me, I hear the door creak open.
I don't want to turn my back on the man with the gun, but I do.
Two guys are dragging Louis and Callin into the building.
And then everything goes black.
-
Callin
Eventually, I guess Louis' all cried out.
He untangles himself from my arms and steps back.
“What-” he starts to say.
And then his eyes widen.
A hand clamps down over my mouth.
Someone walks up behind Louis, a man, and clamps a hand down on his mouth, as well.
And then they're dragging us into the building.
-
Louis
They push Callin and I through the door, and the first thing I see is Niall.
Then I see his left arm.
Blood running down, escaping from the hand trying to contain it.
He turns around slowly, and sees us.
And then his eyes roll back in his head, and he collapses, like a puppet with its strings cut.
“Niall!” Callin shouts.
I glance over at her, and she's managed to get free of the guy holding her. She runs over to Niall, kneels beside him.
I bite down on the hand over my mouth, hard, and the guy swears, dropping me.
And then a gunshot sounds.
-
Callin
I look around, but nobody's been shot. The two men that dragged Louis and I in here stand back. And I see another man, with a gun pointed at the ceiling.
“If you children will be quiet-” he stars to say.
Louis cuts him off.
“What did you do to Niall?” he asks, taking a step towards the man.
And then the gun's pointed at Louis' chest.
“A regrettable accident” the man says. “Now, Mr. Tomlinson, are you ready to die?”
Why bother asking?
Why not just shoot Louis?
Not that I want him to shoot Louis, but that question doesn't make sense.
“Harry first” Louis says, looking first at the gun, then to the man.
“You're lucky I'm a patient man” the man replies.
He signals something to the guy that dragged me in. The guy disappears into the shadows of the warehouse.
“Why are you trying to kill me?” Louis asks the man.
This is wrong.
Something's wrong here.
But I turn to Niall anyway, though I keep listening to Louis and the man. Niall's really pale, his eyes closed, and he looks . . . dead.
But he's breathing.
The wound in his arm is deep, but the bleeding seems to be slowing down a bit.
“I'm trying to kill you because I was hired” the man tells Louis. “You'll have to ask my boss why they want you dead.”
Something's wrong, I realise, as I rip a strip of Niall's shirt off to make a bandage.
The man's just talking.
He should've killed Louis already.
He could've done it easily.
So why is he telling Louis things?
Yeah, this happens in cliché movies, but in real life, the bad guy doesn't tell you his life story.
That gives you time to escape.
Time to escape . . .
“Why Twitter?” Louis asks slowly.
I tie the strip of shirt around Niall's arm, in a tourniquet.
“Why warn me you were coming?”
“Twitter?” the man asks.
I look up to see the two of them, in mirroring stances, facing each other.
The man's gun on Louis.
But the safety's on.
I remember being at Mauri's foster home, in a rough neighborhood, at the police demonstration at school. They thought telling us about guns would would help lower the crime rate and the number of gun-related accidents, so they showed us the parts of the gun. Including the little red ring that shows whether the safety's on or off.
And the safety of this man's gun, here and now, it's on.
If he pulled the trigger, nothing would happen.
“Yeah” Louis says. “Why did you send me Twitter threats? Why bother warning me?”
“I didn't” the man says.
He looks confused.
“I know you” I say softly.
Both of them look at me.
“You shot me” I whisper, my eyes on the man's face. “Why don't you shoot Louis now?”
Louis looks at me, the expression on his face one of hurt.
And then it slowly morphs to realisation.
“I'm not a cruel person” the man says.
“You didn't kill Mark and Brandon” Louis says. “That wasn't you in the house.” He turns, fixes his gaze on the other man, one of the ones that dragged us in. “You were” he says.
The guy grins, showing uneven teeth.
“I should've realised you were there” he says. “Did I hit your friend? Liam?”
“You missed” Louis spits.
The second man likes killing, I realise.
But the first man, the head of all this, he doesn't.
He doesn't want to have to hurt us.
Shooting Louis from far away, he wouldn't have to watch what he did.
But here, he will.
The safety's on.
He wants Louis to try to escape, so the second guy can kill him, but the first guy gets the credit, and the money, and whatever else he gets from this.
But as soon as Harry's here, Louis will try to escape.
Once the rest of us are safe.
I have to tell him.
And then it's too late.
The third man comes back, with something in his arms.
He gets closer.
Someone.
Harry.
---
A/N: Hello
Well.
That escalated quickly.
Hahaha I'm funny c:
BEN HOWARD.
Don't know where that came from . . .
DUDE. So I was about to listen to a Ben Howard video and the commercial started playing and I heard the words 'One Direction.' I switched to that tab so fast, man.
It was Just Dance Four.
I DON'T CARE ABOUT JUST DANCE FOUR.
I was seriously hoping for their faces to ambush me or something.
Anyway, what d'you think about this here chapter?
I think it's very . . . emotional?
I HAVE A TUMBLR NOW.
If you want my Tumblr, pm me.
It's a bit more complicated then just linking it here. My Tumblr comes with a warning . . . anyway.
COMMENT please.
COMMENT what you think about it!
Yeah.
BEN HOWARD.
VOTE if you love Ben Howard.
VOTE if you don't have a soul (a.k.a you don't love Ben Howard).
VOTE if you're never heard of him, but you'll give him a go for me.
VOTE if life.
VOTE if stuff.
VOTE if you think I've run out of creativity.
VOTE if you think I'm just messing with you (winky face).
VOTE because I'm awesome.
VOTE.
Love you <3
~Brook