He wears one of those security ID cards, which he must have swiped from the pharmacy as well. And I wonder about all the useless information going through my mind when I should be coming up with ways to get us out of this situation.
“Don’t test me, little chica, because for what I have in mind for you, you don’t necessarily need to have your head attached.”
His words are followed by another cackle, and it takes all my willpower not to run. The silver barrel of the Sig Sauer he is holding against us is enough incentive. It’s a.45; I don’t even want to imagine the damage a pull of the trigger can do to Angie’s small frame. She’s so tiny. Trusting, she has her arms around my neck and is snuggled against my chest, still asleep.
Even if I were willing to take the risk of resistance, to save my own life (which I’m absolutely not), the gun has so much power; one bullet would probably kill us both. It would enter and exit Angie’s body and then mine.
My mind is furiously throwing scenarios at me on how to get out, but every single one ends up with Angie and me being dead. The door opens into the Employees Only room, and that is our only saving grace.
“What the hell….”
Six people occupy the room. Ten, if you count the four dead on the ground. All covered in blood, making their strange hissing sounds -which have become almost familiar to me. I realize two things at once. First, the man threatening Angie, and I, has no clue what happened in L.A. -besides free drugs, and second, the crazies are coming straight at us.
The gun moves away from Angie and me; the man doesn’t even hesitate before he shoots a woman, who was the fastest. The shot reverberates loudly in the confined space setting off an annoying ringing sound in my ears. Angie wakes up, thrashes in my grip, and screams from the top of her little lungs. My free hand fumbles for my Glock while simultaneously trying to keep a hold of the arching toddler. I’m crushing her to me, probably hurting her, but at this point, there is nothing I can do about it.
I realize my gun isn’t cocked as soon as it is in my hand. I also realize there’s no way I can do this with one hand. A second shot rings out. Sweat pours down my back and face; I’m running out of time. I turn in a wide circle and give Angie a push.
“Run!” I scream at her.
A third shot hits one of the men; the impact pushes him off his feet and against a table, where he crashes to the ground, taking another woman, wearing a white coat, with him. Turning, I take all this in, while simultaneously racking my Glock. I don’t have much time to aim, but years at the shooting range pay off, and I hit the first crazy man, making a beeline for me. He is catapulted back while my wanna be rapist shoots for the fourth time. The woman he shot at is hit in the arm but keeps coming. Even though the bullet all but amputated her arm at the elbow. I hit her center mass, and she flies backward. Tattoo guy finishes off the fourth attacker. Two to go, between the thug and me, we get them fast.
“Vivian!” Comes a shout from somewhere within the store. Blake.
Tattoo guy turns towards me with an evil grin on his face. His mind is already somewhere else, his lips curled into a snarl, exposing his evil intentions.
“Nice shooting, chica, now put the gun down and-”
He never finishes his sentence. Before he can grasp what’s happening, I put a bullet right between his eyes. At this close range, I’m not going for the center shot; I want to make sure he is dead.
I pull the trigger at the exact same moment as Blake and Ryan round the corner. Ryan stares at me, open-mouthed. Something akin to horror and revulsion is written all over his face. From his point of view, I just shot a man in cold blood, but I don’t really care what he thinks right now. If the last ten hours taught me anything, it’s that Ryan and I were never suited for one another. And cold blood or not, this guy had it coming.
Blake opens his arms wide, and I make a run for him. “Are you okay?” he whispers into my hair as I burrow into his embrace.
My whole body shakes from fear and the adrenaline rush. I just shot three people. I manage a low, “Angie?” before I start to cry.
“I got her,” Jose answers from behind us. He holds the screaming toddler in his arms.
I relish the moment of comfort in Blake’s arms before I pull away from him. “You got here just in time.”
A small smile tugs at the corner of his lips, “I think you had things pretty much handled.”
“You just shot that guy.” Ryan’s face is still a mask of revulsion.
But what does he know? The moment tattoo guy turned to me and ordered me to put the gun down, I saw it in his eyes -he would pick up where he left off. He would have raped and probably murdered me. And if I had gotten away by some miracle, he would have done it to someone else. Someone who might not have been able to defend herself the way I did.
I want to scream at Ryan that, yes, I feel remorse, and I feel horrible for killing that man even though I know, deep down, that I did the right thing. The only thing I could have done. And so I really don’t want to waste my breath on him.
“Was he going to hurt you?” Blake asks softly, and I nod into his chest. “Me and Angie.” I sob into his shirt.
He lifts my chin gently so that he can make eye contact. “You didn’t do anything wrong, you hear me?”
His eyes fill with determination, and some of it leaks into me. I wipe the tears from my face and straighten my shoulders—time to soldier up.
“Conner…” I start but have a hard time finishing.
The other boys disperse to find our friend. Ryan finds Conner. A grunt escapes his lips, and he turns to me, a soft, apologetic smile on his face. I turn away from him. I don’t need his forgiveness or whatever he is trying to convey.
“How did you guys know we were in trouble?” I ask Blake.
A wide smile splashes all over his face. “Come with me, and I’ll show you.”
He takes my hand and pulls me towards the exit.
“Someone said they saw some gangbangers around, so we decided to come check on you guys. We thought it would be better to stay together, and then we heard the gunshots.”
The second we step out of the building, a bullet whizzes by my head. So close, it takes part of my ear off. With a scream of surprise and pain, I reel backward toward the store. Blake throws himself protectively in front of me and pulls his Glock up.
Another shot rings out; this one hits the glass door behind us, making shards rain down on us. I scream again and reach for my gun. My hands shake so badly, I have a hard time aiming, even as my target comes into sight. I make out dark clothes and a bandana around his head.
Tattoos cover every surface of exposed skin. I lift my gun and try to aim, but my body seems spent from my earlier encounter. With my shaking hands, my shot goes wide, hitting the windshield of an abandoned car, which explodes with a mighty bang.
A smile plasters itself on the man’s face as he levels his gun sideways like the cool dudes do in the movies—a totally ineffective way to shoot but intimidating, nevertheless. Blake spins around and aims, but I realize he’ll be too late. The grin on the man’s face turns evil as he prepares to pull the trigger.
A hole appears between the man’s eyes; he staggers, before dropping to his knees. His arm goes up, and a shot rings out as he shoots ineffectively into the air. Finally, he drops to the ground.
My eyes search around frantically for the other shooter and more gang members. I notice a flash of silver in a doorway across from us; Blake sees it too and doesn’t hesitate to fire. A cry of pain rings out. Another shot and a thump, before there is silence.
“I think it’s okay now,” Blake says.
“Wait, we need to find whoever was shooting.” My voice shakes a little.
My hand flies trembling to my ear, and when I pull it back, my fingers are sticky with blood. Blake looks worriedly at me.
“Yeah…. about that….” He looks sheepish, and before he can say another word, a voice shouts out.
“I see your shooting skills haven’
t improved much since I last saw you, DD.”
My entire body freezes at the sound of that voice. I would recognize it anywhere, even if he hadn’t used that freaking nickname, and my ears weren’t ringing and hurting from missing a part.
“Colin.” I spit out.
A thud announces him, and I turn just in time to watch Colin jump off the roof of a car. My eyes follow the trail, and I realize he must have been on the roof to my right before he jumped down onto the truck.
At six foot two inches, Colin is a very imposing person, especially when a lean, muscled body comes with it. And he has that, always had.
And judging by what I see underneath his BDU uniform, he only added more. He has that V thing going on that makes girls go crazy. Broad shoulders, narrow hips.
With a big grin on his face, he claps Blake on the shoulder. “Nice shooting, little bro.”
Colin pulls something out of one of the many pockets attached to his camo pants and rips it open, casually. He pulls out gauze and nonchalantly saunters over to me.
Blake looks uncomfortable, and well he should. I give Blake a scathing glare, as I remember how he said somebody told him about the gang members.
“You should have told me,” I accuse while wincing in pain.
Colin is nonplussed and keeps dabbing the gauze at my ear, which stings like a motherf…..
“It’s not bad; it’ll stop bleeding soon,” Colin announces.
“You wouldn’t have come out with me.” Blake defends.
And he is right too. I would have rather spent the rest of this apocalypse hidden in this damn pharmacy than come out here and spend time with Blake’s rotten older brother. I’m so furious right now; I don’t even feel the pain where Colin is doctoring me.
“How did you even get here?” I ask between clenched teeth; civility was never a strong suit of mine where Colin is concerned.
“There, you’re welcome, by the way.” He looks utterly self-satisfied.
I roll my eyes before I remember my manners -he did just bandage me. So, I mumble a low “Thank you.”
He smirks, “That wasn’t so hard now, was it? And to answer your question, it’s called Find Friends, DD. It’s an app on the phone. If you had friends, you would know.”
He holds up his phone with a grin while tossing the bloody gauze into the street. I watch it roll into the gutter; I guess littering doesn’t matter any more than looting does at this point.
“Quit calling me that.” I snarl and barely stop myself from lunging at him.
I don’t know what it is about him that sends my blood boiling, but from when we were kids, I always had the urge wanting to murder him. Of course, it doesn’t help that he teases me every chance he gets. Case in point, DD. Short for Daisy Duck. Because when I was younger, I used to be heavy; I have pictures in which I have this huge butt, like Daisy Duck.
“Sure thing, Tinker Bell.”
I’m not sure why I’m Tinker Bell all of a sudden, but then I remember. Of course, the blasted sweatshirt. Of all the sweaters I could have grabbed when we were inside the gift store, I pulled a deep purple one with the freaking fairy on it. I restrain myself from sticking my tongue out at him and instead give him a scalding death stare.
“So, why are you here? Shouldn’t you be with your army buddies or something?”
He leans against the wall of the pharmacy as if he doesn’t have a care in the world, as if we weren’t fighting crazy people and gang members and trying to outrun the bombing of a city.
“Had to go AWOL, to find and rescue little bro and his girlfriend. And if you want to get technical, I’m Special Forces, Air Force, not Marines.”
He ruffles Blake’s hair, and to my horror, Blake seems to enjoy it.
“Luckily, I was stationed in the area, but now I’m a deserter, I guess.” He says this with a grin, but I suspect it does bother him deep down.
“That must suck,” I venture.
He shrugs, “I wasn’t really in for shooting Americans anyway. And that’s what’ll happen here pretty soon.”
The others emerge from the pharmacy. Angie seems to have calmed down in Jose’s arms but won’t even look at me as I try to smile at her.
Ace searches around. “We heard shots again.”
“Alright, time is running short, so can we get started?” Blake says, ignoring him.
Nobody seems to want to push for an explanation, and the way they regard Colin tells me they have already met him at the dive store earlier.
While I was being held at gunpoint, they had a nice little chit chat. Probably donuts and coffee too. I’m getting angry again, which actually helps with the pain and the ever-present fear of what will happen next.
Chapter 8
We follow Blake into the diving gear store, and to my dismay, Colin falls in step with me.
“When we get back home, I’ll show you how to shoot that gun properly,” he promises arrogantly.
I give him a huff and refrain from bragging that I just shot three people, which really isn’t anything to brag about; besides, if he underestimates me, this might get interesting. I give him my best southern belle smile.
“Oh, mighty warrior, that would be so wonderful. I have been dying to get lessons from you.” I bat my eyelashes for maximum effect.
He chuckles. “Well, you’ve never been a very grateful person.”
“Grateful for what?” I sputter.
He points back behind us. “That man I shot? He would have killed you.”
“Yeah, me or your brother. Could have gone either way. But yeah… thank you.”
He looks down at me with an inscrutable expression and ruffles my hair. I squeal and jump back. I would love to ignore him, but a question still burns a hole into my stomach, and I feel compelled to ask: “So how exactly did you get here?”
“Drove like crazy.” He shrugs as if that explains everything and makes it sound like it was the easiest thing on Earth.
“Couldn’t have been easy.” I fish.
His jaw locks, and he gives me one of those Colin looks that lets me know he wants me to drop it. But like always, when he’s around, it’s like I have the devil inside of me and can’t stop myself. “Well?” I press?
“You’re not gonna let this go, are you?” He asks between pressed teeth. He turns to me and must read my answer on my face because, with a deep sigh, he continues. “If you must know, I was in San Diego when dad called. A joint AF/Navy training, okay? I defected and drove like crazy to save you and Blake. Happy?”
If I didn’t know Colin so well, his words could have fooled me, but they don’t. For starters, I can’t imagine the drive here having been easy or pleasant the way he tries to make it sound like. And the part of him defecting? He loves the military; he loves the code of honor and discipline. This is going to stain not only his career but his conscience. I know I should probably show some gratitude for saving Blake and me, but I have a suspicion that saving me was more of a side effect, an afterthought. He came for his brother, not me. So why should I bow down to him in gratitude if that is the case?
Thankfully we are entering the diving supply store. With a grin, he makes his way to his brother, so I’m finally free of his insufferable presence and spared further reflection if I should or should not feel in his debt.
“Okay, everybody needs to find a wetsuit. Let’s go,” Blake bosses us around.
This is easier for me since the women’s suits are separated from the men’s, and I’m the only girl. For a second, I consider a bright pink one, just to mess with Colin, but unfortunately, we don’t have time for that, so I opt for a dark navy blue one. It will camouflage in the ocean much better. There will be plenty of time to mess with that arrogant bastard later, I promise myself, which makes me feel slightly better about things in general and our current situation in particular.
“Hey, marshmallow.” With an exasperated huff, I turn towards Colin’s voice. “Take these too. It’s going to be cold.”
He tosses me a p
air of black leggings and a black t-shirt. I’m very proud of myself for not rising to the bait of him calling me yet another stupid nickname and vanish inside a small dressing area. There is a lot of grunting and groaning going on behind all six of the curtains as we all try to wedge ourselves first into skin-tight leggings and shirts before donning the wetsuit on top.
When my shorts drop to the ground, I hear a little thump, the Benadryl. I stare at it for a second, and for a moment, I’m transported back into the pharmacy. See Conner’s smiling face, telling me to go find the medicine. My heart aches for the senseless loss of him. I bite my lower lip hard; the pain helps to ground me back into the present before losing myself to mourning, horror, and fear.
I bend over to retrieve the bottle. “Hey, Jose?”
“What’s up?”
“Are you dressing?”
“No, waiting for my turn, why?”
I part the curtain just a little and hold the box out. “It’s probably about time to give Angie this.”
After he plucks the box from my hand, I pull it back inside the dressing room.
“How much should I give her?”
“I dunno. Check the label and see what it says. Then up it just a little.” I tell him.
Finally, I get the wetsuit on and zipped. The thing is fairly tight but strangely comfortable at the same time. Easy to move in. My eyes wander towards the floor to ceiling length mirror across from the curtain, and I do a double-take.
Is that really me? My fingers go towards my own image but stop midway. Yeah, that’s me. I notice the spot on my ear where Colin put a band-aid around it and wonder how much of the tip I’ve lost. I still feel a little pulse inside of it.
My brown eyes almost glisten red in the dim lighting; there is a haunted expression to them that wasn’t there this morning when I put my makeup on. Smears of mascara cover the dark circles under my eyes from lack of sleep and the horror I’ve been through.
I reach for the discarded sweatshirt and wet a corner with spit. Not the most hygienic way to do this, but I’m in a desperate situation. I can already hear Colin making raccoon jokes for the rest of my life if I don’t get this situation remedied at once.
The Rain | Part 1 | The Beginning Page 8