Gianni stuck to my right flank, pistol drawn, eyes scanning.“We need to fall back!”he shouted over the chaos.“They’re firing from both levels!”
“I’m not leaving without her.”
Another hail of bullets rained from above, shredding glass, splintering wood.A spotlight exploded overhead, showering us in sparks.We ducked behind a toppled table as gunfire scorched the air inches from our skulls.
Gianni reloaded with shaking hands.“We’re boxed in, Atlas!They have the high ground!”
“Move,” I growled.
I didn’t wait for him.
I vaulted the table, boots slamming into slick, blood-smeared flooring.A bullet screamed past my ear.Another punched a crater into the wall behind me.The crowd roared.But I didn’t hear any of it.
Gianni cursed and followed, firing upward to cover my rush.I plowed through the panic, shoulder-first, driving toward the backstage hall like a bullet with a singular target.
A guard stepped out of the shadows.
Wrong place.Wrong time.Wrong fucking man to stand in front of.
I shoved my shoulder into his sternum.The air left his lungs with a violent grunt.Before he could recover, I wrenched his gun from his grip, pivoted, and fired a bullet straight through his forehead.
He dropped like a stone.
We hit the backstage corridor just as three more guards turned the corner, rifles already raised.
They opened fire.
The muzzle flashes lit the hallway in bursts of white.Bullets ripped through the plaster.One grazed my shoulder, but the sting barely registered through the adrenaline.
I ducked, grabbed Gianni by the back of his shirt, and hurled us both into a side alcove behind a thick steel column.
Gianni gasped, wide-eyed.“Jesus Christ?—”
“We need to push forward,” I snarled, checking the remaining rounds in my stolen gun.“Neve is back there.”
He nodded once, fear carved into his features, but he didn’t argue.
Because at this point, I was sure he could see that nothing short of a bullet through my skull would stop me.And even then, I’d probably claw my way back from the grave to get to her.
“WATCH YOUR LEFT!”Gianni shouted suddenly.
I pivoted without thinking and let out one shot.Two.Three.
The first man dropped instantly.The second hit the ground screaming, clutching his chest.The third took one look at the ruin of his friends and bolted down the corridor.
I didn’t bother chasing him.I pushed forward.
The club shook violently as an explosion detonated somewhere in the main hall.A burst of flame rolled across the rafters, lighting the ceiling in a hungry, crawling blaze.Smoke blasted from the vents in thick, choking waves.
Gianni coughed hard, covering his mouth with his sleeve.“The fire’s spreading fast.”
“I know.”
“We can’t go in there, Atlas.It’s too dangerous…”
His words were drowned out by a new volley of gunfire.Someone screamed.Another explosion rattled the floor beneath us, sending dust and plaster raining down.
“ATLAS!”a voice boomed through the smoke.