Chapter 7 - The Escape
The blast knocked me entirely off my feet.
My ears rang with a deafening, high-pitched whine as thick black smoke filled the studio.
Ethan was immediately by my side, hauling me up by my arm.
"Luis!" I screamed over the chaos, coughing on the toxic air.
Ethan grabbed the terrified teenager by his shirt collar, dragging him toward the back of the warehouse.
Gunfire erupted, the bullets shattering the massive mirrors lining the studio walls.
Shards of glass rained down on us like deadly hail.
We dove behind a heavy oak reception desk just as a spray of bullets tore through the wood above our heads.
"Who are these people?" I yelled, pressing my hands over my ears.
"Julian's men don't use assault rifles!" Ethan shouted back, pulling a small handgun from his ankle holster.
"This is my father's private security team."
"Walter is trying to kill us?" I gasped, utterly bewildered.
"My father realizes Julian is using Daniel to rig the tournament," Ethan explained quickly.
"If we die, the tournament is canceled, and my father gets to keep his company without fighting Julian for it."
Ethan peaked over the edge of the desk and fired twice into the smoke.
A man screamed in pain, and the incoming gunfire paused for a fraction of a second.
"There is a freight elevator in the back hallway," Ethan told me, his eyes wild with adrenaline.
"It goes down to the old subway tunnels."
"On my count, run."
He didn't wait for my confirmation.
"Three, two, one, go!"
Ethan popped up and laid down cover fire.
I grabbed Luis's hand and sprinted blindly through the smoke.
My bad leg screamed in agony, the old muscles tearing in protest, but fear pushed me forward.
We burst through a set of double doors into a dark, concrete corridor.
Ethan slammed the doors shut behind us, jamming a steel mop handle through the handles to lock it.
We ran to the heavy rusted gates of the freight elevator.
Ethan frantically slammed the call button.
The sound of heavy boots pounding against the double doors echoed through the hallway.
"Open the doors, Ethan!" Walter's voice boomed through a megaphone from the other side.
"Give me the girl, and I'll let you walk away."
"You're my son, I don't want to bury you."
The old elevator finally groaned its way up to our floor with agonizing slowness.
We threw open the metal grate and piled inside.
Just as the doors began to slide shut, the mop handle on the double doors snapped in half.
Walter's men flooded into the hallway, raising their weapons.
One of the guards leveled his rifle directly at Luis's chest.
Without thinking, I threw my body in front of the teenager.
A gunshot echoed in the cramped space.
The elevator doors slammed shut, plunging us into total darkness as the car dropped downward.
I collapsed against the metal wall, clutching my side.
Ethan pulled out his phone, using the flashlight to illuminate the small space.
The beam of light landed on my white shirt.
It was rapidly turning crimson.
"Claire," Ethan whispered in horror, dropping his gun.
May you like
I looked down at the blood pouring from my abdomen.
Then, my vision went completely black.
