There was no telling how many more there were. It seemed with each turn, each hall and doorway, the sounds of more were heard.
Six fired off three more shots, taking out two more men in black as we rounded a corner.
They didn’t stand a chance.
I kept as close to Six as I could. When shots fired off somewhere I cringed, waiting for pain. Six turned, his arm held out, sweeping me behind him as I snapped off five shots in the direction the sound came from.
He tensed at one point, but swung us back around.
Not ten steps later I cried out as pain zipped up my leg, causing me to trip, but I managed to recover. Running became stunted, and I felt warmth slide down my thigh with each shaky step.
He stopped a few feet in front of me, ushering me through a large steel door, another few shots ringing in my ears.
Three more figures appeared at the end of the hall and my steps faltered, almost sending me to the ground. My heart stopped for a brief second before I raised the gun and pulled the trigger.
And pulled.
And pulled.
And pulled.
Two of them fell to the ground, one of them taking a bullet to the skull. The third one bore down on us, gun raised.
I stumbled back, firing off randomly when Six moved in front of me. Two bangs and the third guy was on the ground.
There was no time to think, to process what I’d just done. The need to get away, to live, was all that mattered.
The fear and adrenaline made for a strong cocktail.
We pressed on, searching for a way out, an opening. Through one door, down another hall until we found ourselves in a large room with another group closing in on us.
“Fuck.” Six raced around the room, pushing things out of his way.
The room was at the end of the hall, and it seemed it was a one-way-in, one-way-out design.
He ejected the clip from his gun and fished another from his pocket. After pushing it in, he slapped the butt of the gun and pulled the slide.
The stomping of boots grew closer and Six grabbed my arm, pulling me toward the only other way out. On the other side of a large window was a platform.
He opened the window and jumped out onto the dizzying metal grate catwalk. Sticking his head back through he reached for me, helping me out. It seemed stable enough, but my hands still shook, legs failing to cooperate, making my steps on a no-rail, probably-not-meant-for-people platform even more labored.
Six still had his arm around me when a shot rang out from within the room. He pulled me close, turning as he fired back. The groans indicated he’d struck them, but the rip in his jacket and the blood dripping down his arm told me he wasn’t the only one whose bullet made contact.
There was no pause, our feet clanking against the metal below us. I tried not to look down, but with no railing, I was forced to or risked falling off the edge. Unfortunately, that also meant my eyes focused on the ground some four stories below.
My head spun and I clutched onto Six’s jacket, helping to guide me.
Before we could reach the other side, a figure stepped out from around a large piece of equipment the platform was attached to. He raised his gun, but Six reached out, hitting his arm as he fired, sending bullets ricocheting around and Six’s gun to fall from his grip.
With his left hand, Six jabbed at the guy’s throat, making his eyes go wide as Six grasped at his neck. Pulling out one of his knives, Six thrust it into his stomach and angled it up.
A gurgling sound came out of his open mouth. Six pulled the knife out, and when the man fell to his knees, Six kicked him in the chest, sending him down to the grate.
I stared at the man and for the first time, had no care about who he was. It was him or me. The gruesome way in which Six killed him didn’t even startle me. I felt a sick sort of satisfaction in knowing he could never even attempt to hurt me again. I had never seen anyone killed with such brutality, and it scared me, but excited me. Six didn’t do it just to save himself. He saved me as well.
Blood covered his hand, and there was a spray of red across his clothes. He wiped the knife off on his pants before stowing it away. As he leaned down for his fallen gun, there was the sound of multiple people clamoring about the platform.
We froze, listening for the direction of the sound. It came from the window we crawled out of, so we started in the other direction.
About twenty feet from the other side, the men appeared and I raised my arm, firing off a shot at the same time Six did. One fell, but the much larger one only dropped his gun.
The clanking of footsteps behind us drew Six to turn around, blocking me from them as he fired. The concussion of each shot jolted my whole body, almost as if I was being pushed in the back.
The hulk of a guy who was gunless scowled at me and stomped forward. I pulled the trigger, but missed. My hands shook the closer he got, and I missed again.