I toss my gun and jump on the chest of a dead man and take his gun that's resting at his side.
Just as I'm about to return fire, I hear something I never wanted to hear.
A scream.
Elena.
My heart stops.
I spin toward the hallway, and I run. I don't think or look or check my corners. I just go to her.
I swear I don't even hear the gunshot, but it must have happened because the pain hits me hard.
A white-hot burn tears through my left bicep. The impact spins me halfway around, and I stagger, my hand instinctively going to the wound.
Warm blood pours through my fingers. I look down. The bullet tore clean through the muscle, missing the bone but getting everything else. Blood pumps out with each heartbeat, staining my skin dark red.
A man comes into my view and I raise my gun and fire.
Once. Twice. Three times.
I don't stop to see if he's dead. I turn and just keep moving, stumbling toward the hallway, toward Elena.
But I'm not fast enough.
Another shot cracks through the air. This one hits the same up, but the bullet lodges itself in my shoulder.
The impact knocks me off balance, and I go down hard, my back slamming into the floor. Pain explodes through my shoulder, radiating down my arm, across my chest.
I can't breathe for a second. I can't move.
I feel warm liquid running down my chest, under my chin.
Victor's voice cuts through the ringing in my ears. "Adrian!"
I hear him fire, but it sounds muffled, and then there's silence.
I then hear hard footsteps and Victor's face appears above me. "Shit. Shit, Adrian, stay with me. You okay?"
I try to sit up, but my left arm doesn't work. It hangs useless at my side, blood streaming down from the two gunshot wounds to pool on the floor beneath me.
"Get Elena," I say.
26
ELENA
Iclamp my hands over my ears, but it does very little to silence the gunfire.
My feet scramble around in front of me as I try to push myself into the wall. After a few seconds, there's a lull and I lift my head up and look around. I slowly bring my hands down and listen.
BANG.
Bullets tear through the bathroom and I scream as loud as I can from fright and cover my ears again. Small holes appear along the mirror above the sink and the mirror spiderwebs and breaks as light from outside comes through.
Another burst of gunfire comes, moving closer to me, chunks of debris and whatever else spraying across the tile.
I can't breathe. The air is thick with dust and smoke, and it makes my lungs burn.