by B D Grant
Mase chases after me.
“Go get her!” I hear Kian shout in a reverberating baritone I wouldn’t have thought him capable of.
I glance back wanting to see how far I’ve gotten from Mase. I haven’t gotten as far away from him as I thought. I look past Mase and see Kelly’s eyes locked on me. The rest are continuing up the stairs as Kelly bounds off of the bottom step. I can hear him closing in on me as quickly as Mase, although he started further away. I’m not going to make it. I feel Mase behind me.
He successfully grabs for my shirt, taking a fistful of my hair as well. With a hard yank he forces me back as one of the double doors opens and Sidney rolls in. Kelly catches up and quickly steps in front of me, blocking me from her. Mom enters right behind her as Kelly raises his gun. Crap, I totally forgot about his gun. Through our connection, I hear Sidney shout, Get back, Catherine. Swiveling her chair, Sidney semi-effectively shields Mom from Kelly.
“No!” I turn around searching for Kian. He can stop this.
Kian is at the top of the stairs, Flea right next to him. He looks down from the observation tower, not appearing too concerned by what’s unfolding. Cassidy and Gradney have already made it through the open door at the top of the stairs. Kian brings a hand to the back of his ears, his lips moving. He turns his back to me and disappears through the door.
“Please!” I cry. My piercing plea echoes back at me as Flea disappears after him.
“No,” Sidney says breathlessly as Kelly pulls the trigger.
The door at the top of the stairs clanks shut. My connection with Sidney breaks as a sharp pain strikes my chest and then just as quickly disappears.
I rip away from Mase to push around Kelly. I watch as he points the handgun at my mom. At his side, I slam both of my hands on his arm in an effort to force him to lower his gun from my mom’s chest who is just feet away from the end of his weapon. But I could hang from his arm and his aim would barely falter.
I dig my fingertips into the flesh of his arm. “Don’t, Kelly. Not my mom.”
His brow furrows. Mase grumbles on the other side of him, “Get it over with.”
I hold on to Kelly, waiting for him to shove me away as my nails press into his skin. Out of the corner of his eye, he looks down at me. He blinks hard. His eyes narrow on the gun in his hands and then looks back at me.
For a moment, his arm relaxes, and the tip of the gun drifts to the side. In turn I relax my hold on him. He frowns, yanking his arm away from me.
My breath catches as his arm goes free. My hands ball into a knot in front of my stomach. “Please,” I plead through clenched teeth.
“Shut up,” Mase snaps. “You’re lucky Kian wants you alive.”
Kelly lifts his gun in Mom’s direction. “I’ll tell your sister that you send your regards.”
It happens so fast that I barely catch the look on Mase’s face as Kelly shoots him in the leg. Mase collapses, in shock. Kelly is on top of him in a second backhanding him in the face, giving Mase no time to touch his earpiece to call for help. “Remember I let you live,” Kelly tells him, using the butt of his handgun to hit Mase a final time in the temple. His head snaps sideways, some spit spewing from his lips as his eyes roll back and he hits the ground.
Kian, Flea, Cassidy, and Gradney are gone. The door at the top of the stairs does not reopen. If they heard Kelly’s second gunshot it didn’t faze them enough to come back. They probably assumed it was my mother who was shot and not one of their own. I, like my mom still standing by Sidney, stare at Mase, Kelly hovering over him. It’s like everything had slowed down and speed up at the same time. Mom recovers first turning from us to Sidney.
“Sid, how bad is it?” she asks, kneeling in front of Sidney.
“I hate it when you call me that,” Sidney sighs, clutching the side of her abdomen. Around her hand, her tan robe is turning bright red. I move toward them kneeling down next to Mom to help if I can. Mom stops, one hand on Sidney’s arm as she’s about to move Sidney’s hand away from wound. She looks over at me; Sidney does too. Mom lets go of Sidney and pulls me to her as she wraps both arms around my shoulders and squeezes. It’s the best hug I have ever gotten. My arms wrap around her chest in equal strength. She gives me a kiss, hard but quick that she’s plants on my cheek before returning to face Sidney. It’s hard to not hold on to her and never let go. If my adrenaline weren’t still pumping, I would sob into the crease of her neck like I did when I was a little kid not caring if I got tears and snot all over the both of us.
As Mom carefully opens Sidney’s robe to the pastel blue gown below, Kelly curses under his breath. I look up and see him turned away from us now several feet from Mase’s unconscious body. He’s still holding the gun, and when he lifts it, even though he’s pointing it toward the opposite end of the large recreation room, I freeze. He fires two shots that hit a camera I hadn’t noticed earlier that is mounted in the top corner of the room to the left of the stairs.
His first shot is dead on. Shards sprinkle the ground below as the camera blasts apart. The second shot leaves it dangling by one wire. He rips his earpiece out, tossing it across the room.
“We’re compromised,” he says, rubbing a hand over his short hair. He glances over at Mom as she has Sidney lean forward. He glances around the room quickly before kneeling by Mase’s side. Mom runs a hand over Sidney’s back and then checks her hand.
“It didn’t go all the way through,” she tells us, careful to sit Sidney back. I look to Sidney who says nothing just balls up one of her frail hands and then uses the other to push the fist she’s made into the wound applying pressure. She looks distant but what she’s doing means that she at least knows her situation. “Very good,” Mom coos.
Kelly is pulling out a card-key from Mase’s belt. “I might have something for that,” Kelly tells us. Sidney grumbles, letting up on the pressure she’s putting on her stomach.
“Here,” Mom says, lifting Sidney’s fist to place her left hand over the gunshot wound. The bloodstain is seeping lower on Sidney’s robe. It’s nearly to her lap now.
I turn my focus to Kelly as he jogs off to the door next to the one-way mirror. He swipes the card-key and then turns the handle. As soon as he’s out of sight I’m worried that maybe him turning on Mase had been a fluke and he’s gone off to get more Rogues. They’ll let Sidney bleed to death and put Mom and me in cells like I had pictured they would bring me to yesterday when I got here.
Kelly returns a moment later with a small first aid kit that he offers to my mom, and for the second time today he’s surprised me.
Mom is checking Sidney’s pulse with her right hand. She nods for Kelly to give me the first aid kit. “Open it,” she tells me. My fingers fumble with the zipper but I get it open. I take out what’s on top, Band-Aids, triple antibiotic ointment. “No, no,” Mom says as I toss them to the floor to rummage deeper in the kit. “Give me those,” she says when I pull out a thin pack of four by four gauze pads. I hand them to her and then glance behind myself at Kelly.
He’s a foot behind us standing over us. He staring into space between Mom and I, not seeming to focus on anything in particular. Still staring off, Kelly’s hand move to release the used clip from his gun and slides it into his pants pocket. His eyes begin to wonder up to Sidney. From his belt, he pulls out a new clip. Still not looking at the gun, he loads the clip and puts one in the chamber.
“You okay?” I ask cautiously. He seemed to be more himself in these last few minutes than he has since I’ve arrived, but I’m worried that he could be reverting back to the Elite Kelly.
“Do you hear that?” he asks, eyes flickering to mine as he walks around me toward the double doors a few feet behind Sidney that lead to the corridor. I stand slowly, trying to listen for what he’s talking about. Kelly glances back at Mase and then with his free hand he points for me to look at him. I step over to where Mase is laying on his back on the ground. The slow rise and fall of his chest tells me that he’s still alive, but he h
asn’t moved. His arms are out a little from his sides and his injured leg is bent at a ninety-degree angle with the other one straight out. If his toes were pointed and his arms were lifter higher he would look like ballerina, an unconscious ballerina. When I turn back, Kelly is on the other side of Mom and Sidney, still listening intently to a noise I can’t make out. Mom is using a pair of small scissors to cut Sidney’s gown open around the site of the wound.
I take a step towards them, and Kelly’s head snaps in my direction. He points at Mase again. “Get his gun,” Kelly hisses. I search around Mase’s waistband, even lifting one of his hips to check his back, but I find nothing. “Check his ankle,” Kelly says in a low voice, trying to be quiet.
Kelly is behind Sidney’s wheelchair standing at the doors when I look up again. “Someone’s out there,” he whispers. All I can hear is Mom cutting and Sidney’s hard breathing.
Mom quickly places the first aid kit onto Sidney’s lap and then pulls the wheelchair farther away from the doors. Sidney winces as her wheelchair rolls forward pushing her back into the chair. I find what looks to be a toy gun in a hidden ankle holder on Mase’s left ankle. It’s so small that it fits in the palm of my hand. “What was he expecting to do with this?” I ask, holding out the two-shot pistol for Kelly to see. He throws a finger to his lips for me to be quiet and then see what I’m holding.
Kelly backs back from the doors. A hint of a smile plays at his lips as I walk up. “It was one of my demands if Mase was going to work with me and be armed,” he whispers. “Mase is Lia’s son.”
I glance back down at Mase. I know enough about Kelly’s friend Anne to understand why Kelly wouldn’t want Mase to carry a decent weapon and why him working for these people makes no sense at all. I wait until my mom is busy digging in the first aid kit again in front of Sidney before quickly step back over to Mase and kicking him hard in the ribs. The sound of air escaping his lips causes me to pause, but he’s doesn’t move besides his body wobbling from the force.
“None of this will stop the bleeding,” Mom complains as I join Kelly at his side. From what I can see she’s dug to the bottom of the kit.
“They’re close,” Kelly warns. I can hear something but it’s faint. Could it be the Elites Kian had asked for?
“You sure it’s not like a television that was left on or something.” No sooner have I said it than muffled voices become audible from where I stand. “…could be a trap.”
“In that case, you should go first,” another male voice says. “So we’ll know if it is or not.” Kelly brings a finger to his mouth and holds it there until he sees my mom give the same gesture to Sidney and I nod in acknowledgement.
“It makes perfect sense,” the second voice continues, moving closer. The voice starts to sound familiar as it draws near. “If I hear a shot, I’ll know it’s a trap. And if you come back out, you can just tell me if it’s a trap or not.” The laugh that follows is undeniably familiar.
“It’s Bryant,” I rejoice as I haphazardly open the door. Before Kelly can stop me, I smack right into a man’s chest that’s way too big to belong to Bryant.
Immediately, fear shoots through me. What have I done? Kelly is at my side, gun pointed, as I stumble back. I clutch my tiny two-shooter as I gaze up.
John towers over me.
“Well looky here,” Bryant chirps, coming down the hall with Ben at his side. All three of them are wearing janitor coveralls. John’s is too small, not allowing him to zip it all the way up revealing a white undershirt and the legs of the coveralls stop inches above his shoes. He’s carrying a backpack; its thick, black straps run across his shoulders.
“Taylor and Kelly,” Ben rejoices as he smiles over at John. John doesn’t meet his gaze. Ben’s enthusiasm fizzles quickly when he notices the same thing John has, Kelly isn’t lowering his weapon from John’s chest. John is holding a rifle, which he had out in front of him when I ran into him. I’m lucky he didn’t shoot me, but with Kelly not backing down he lowers the rifle with a slow, intentional ease. “Hey now,” Ben says, doing the exact opposite with his rifle as he and Bryant walk up.
“Put it down, Kelly,” I say gently, sidestepping away from John to be able to fully face Kelly. “John’s a friend.”
Out the corner of my eye next to Ben, I see Bryant switching a lever on his rifle. I glance down at John’s rifle at his side. It’s the same style rifles that we used for the raid. The lever Bryant has flipped turns the rifle to the tranquilizer cartridges instead of the deadly force option. Bryant, with a forced cheerfulness, says, “John, meet Kelly. Kelly, this is Big John.”
“Kelly,” John repeats, not showing a hint of unease, “Are you the Kelly that Mr. Lanton requested we retrieve?” Mitchell Lanton, the only Lanton I know of, had stayed by Kelly’s side after we made it out of the raid. He had been the first person to get to Kelly’s partially burnt, balled up body after the basement explosion. From then on it seemed that Mr. Lanton’s primary concern was for Kelly’s wellbeing.
“The same,” Kelly replies, lowering his gun a couple of inches as if he wants to relax but is unable to completely do so.
Bryant is checking Kelly out, his attention no longer on the gun now directed at John’s abdomen. He steps closer to Kelly wedging his way halfway between the two of them, stopping before he gets in front of Kelly’s gun. Kelly eyes Bryant suspiciously as the latter scrutinizes the top of Kelly’s head. “If you’re in the middle of transitioning to the bald look,” Bryant says, “than you should know that it’s my thing. And I don’t take kindly to imitators.”
Kelly looks back at John and finally lowers his gun to his side, taking stock of all three men. His eyes rest on John’s rifle as if he’s finally realizing that John’s rifle has been at his side this whole time. “Sorry,” he says in a small voice. “I, uh, haven’t backed down from a fight in a while.” John just stares at him not saying a word. After a second Kelly moves around him.
As Kelly checks out the corridor, John goes to the door across the hall from the double doors raising his rifle as he pushes the door open to enter. Bryant gives me a look, his eyes widening as his eyebrows rise, like he’s wanting a better explanation for why Kelly’s acting so weird. I shrug at him. “He’s actually a lot better than he was earlier.”
I hear groaning in the recreation room behind me. “He’s waking up,” Mom calls from inside the room.
Kelly goes up to Ben. “I got a guy on the floor in there,” he says, nodding toward the recreation room. “He needs to stay asleep until we’re gone.”
Ben perks up. “Roger that,” he says, heading dutifully toward the double doors.
Kelly follows him.
Bryant’s right next to me at the doors with his rifle at the ready. “Who else is in there?” he asks glancing into the room seeing Kelly going over to the two women as Ben walks over to Mase who is on his left side groaning.
“My mom and the one in the wheelchair is Sidney.” Bryant turns back to watch the corridor.
I’m keeping an eye on Kelly still not feeling too safe with him around my mom and Sidney. As Kelly begins talking with Mom, Sidney pears around them to look at me. John is out of the room now. I can hear him behind me talking to Bryant about escape routes.
“They’ve probably locked everything down by now,” John says quietly.
“Yeah,” Bryant says. “I’m regretting not letting Ben bring that tactical rope with us. We could have shot out a window and rappelled down.”
“There wouldn’t have been enough for all of us,” John tells him.
I turn toward them. “Is Jake okay?” I ask John. He hasn’t had time to get onto me for running away from Clairabelle’s.
John’s adjusts the large black backpack he’s carrying. “He’s fine. Your father is with him.”
“Good.” Jake is back at Clairabelle’s. I turn back to the rec room. Mom is talking calmly to Sidney.
“It’s going to be okay,” she saying. I can’t see Sidney’s face, but based on
the way Mom’s mouth forms a hard line when she looks down to Sidney’s stomach she can’t be doing good.
Ben is making a show over Mase, checking the lever on his rifle as Mase half moans, half cries, “Don’t kill me,” before delivering a tranquilizer to the side of Mase’s buttocks.
I haven’t heard Bryant walk up but he nudges me a little in my right arm as he takes a step into the rec room watching Kelly talk quietly with my mom. He keeps saying something about blood. I can make out the word because he keeps saying it, his blood. Mom shakes her head at him moving around Sidney to the back of her chair.
As I’m about to walk in, Bryant stops me. “What’s going on with him?”
“This really is the most with-it he’s been since I got here,” I say, keeping my voice low. “He’s the one who shot Sidney, and he almost shot my mom too.”
“Our Kelly who saved kindergarteners during the raid, shot an old woman in a wheelchair?” Bryant asks. I don’t bother replying. Mom is rolling Sidney towards us leaving Kelly where he stands. Kelly watches her go.
“Mom,” I say, pulling Bryant by his arm. “This is Bryant.” Bryant and I move out of the doorway so that she can push Sidney into the corridor. John’s a little ways down the corridor keeping an eye out.
“Hello Bryant. Thanks for coming,” Mom says, stopping the wheelchair.
“Mmmm, Catherine?” Sidney sounds confused.
Mom swoops around the wheelchair. “Sid.” I round the chair to her right, Bryant to her left. John jogs over.
“And John…” I tell her as she slides her pointer and middle finger onto the inside of Sidney’s left wrist. Kelly and Ben walk out into the corridor. “And Ben,” I add. Mom nods at both of them. Kelly stops beside me looking down either end of the corridor as if he’s expecting someone.