Helloooo! Happy Memorial Day! I love four-day weekends :D Now only 7 days of school left to live through and then exams and then outttt!! Whoop! I hope you all have a good end of year or um middle of year I suppose if you’re in some place like Australia, I dunno. But yeah, so I’m thinking there’s going to be around 30 chapters in Omega, so we’re getting pretty close!! Thank you so much for all your support and PLEASE keep voting and commenting! It means loads to me! love you all!

Gracias! <3 vb123321 :)

Chapter Twenty-Six



♥ Astrid ♥



I could never say later how long we were there in that alley, just Charlie and I and the wind that chilled my cheeks and gently stirred his hair. He lay unmoving with his head in my lap, his blood-covered chest barely rising and falling with each shallow breath. The limp state of his body and his unresponsiveness scared me, my voice echoing in my own ears as I tried to talk to him. He was dead to the world – but suddenly that expression had an entirely different meaning.



His hand was icy cold in mine, his face so white that his skin was nearly translucent. I did my best to wipe the blood and sweat off his face, pressing the corner of my sweatshirt sleeve to a trickle of blood on his temple. I forced all thoughts out of my head, trying to stay sane. Unaware of anything but him and me, I kept talking, afraid that if I stopped, he might slip away.



“Come on, Charlie, stay with me, I need you here, you hear me? You’re not allowed to die, I’m not going to let you – I can’t lose you, too…”



The tears were still streaming down my face unheeded as my voice trembled. My gun had been thrown on the ground and was now several feet away from me, regardless of the fact that Cloying’s men were so close. I couldn’t bring myself to care about that danger, focused on the much more prominent terror before me. My heart was still cracking with grief, my body shaking as the tears slid down my cheeks; it felt like someone had taken a machete to my chest, and I couldn’t let that happen again.



“Stay with me,” I begged in barely a whisper, knowing that it wouldn’t help – it hadn’t helped last time, had it? Jay was gone, shot to pieces on some road in the middle of a foreign country where no one would ever find him; no one would ever know who he was… And my voice cracked as I whispered it again.



But he couldn’t hear me, his face still as his cold fingers refused to respond to my touch. I felt like I was choking on my rising terror, grasping both his hands tightly in my own and sobbing his name, begging him to be okay. Don’t cry, he had said, but I couldn’t keep the tears away, couldn’t calm the frantic pounding of my heart.



The cold wind blew against his face, his eyelids lifting as if blown open. His grey eyes were light and glassy, bewildered as they took in my face. Overwhelmed with relief, I could only look at him and cry, trying to wipe away my tears even as they fell.



“Hey,” he whispered, one corner of his mouth moving as if trying to smile. “Did I miss anything?”



“Charlie!” His name was strangled in a sob that I quickly tried to contain. “I’m sorry – I mean – are you okay?”



A ghost of a smile drifted over his lips, his eyes swirling dizzily as they began to close again. “No, it’s okay…just keep saying my name like that…”



“Charlie, please!” Now that he was awake, I couldn’t let him go. “You have to stay awake; we need to keep moving.”



“Just a little nap…” His voice was slipping away, the shadows under his eyes pronounced. “It’ll be fine.”



I shook his shoulders, removing my hands as a grimace of pain passed over his face and he opened his eyes to look at me in confusion. “We have to go, you hear me?” I said, as calmly as I could manage. “Cloying’s men aren’t that far away; we have to get back to Joel and Josh.” I held his eyes until he nodded wearily, and then I said, “Okay, I’m going to stand up and then help you, all right?”



“Whatever you say.”



He didn’t fight me, barely moving as I got to my feet, retrieved my gun from the ground, and then extended a hand to him. Looking at it rather blankly before taking it, he rose slowly to his feet, swaying alarmingly and clutching my shoulder. I steadied him as he took deep breaths and blinked a few times, wincing. Not wanting him to see Finn’s body, as I wasn’t sure what kind of emotional reaction that would stir, I led him to the end of the alley, where he leaned against the wall.



“We have to keep moving,” I said after a moment, placing a hand on his back carefully. Charlie closed his eyes, placing his forehead against the brick wall. I opened my mouth again, but he held up one hand in an exhausted sort of way.



“Just a second. I’m trying not to throw up on you.”



I laughed, because I couldn’t think of anything else to do, although I couldn’t remember ever being in a less funny situation. He straightened as I did so, turning to look at me with burning grey eyes, his expression so blank that I wanted to take him into my arms. But Jay’s eyes were still in my mind, my heart still aching as I fought back that never-ending scream that grief was trying to push out my mouth.



Charlie’s eyes moved over my head, his brow furrowing slightly as if he was struggling to put something together. I turned slightly to see an entirely different grey, the grey that I had forgotten about – the smoke that was clogging the blue sky, coming from the flames that danced across rooftops. The fire had spread.



“Josh and Joel are that way.” My voice seemed distant as we watched the fire together, transfixed. Forcing my brain to think, I said more emphatically, “Josh and Joel went the other way. We have to go back towards the fire so that we can get out of here.” We could have gone around it, but one look at his exhausted face told me that the quickest way had to be the best.



“Out of here,” Charlie repeated, his eyes clouded. “Come on, then.”



Taking his arm with one hand and clutching my gun tightly in the other, I took a left at the end of the alley and led the way down the street. Charlie was limping, his face taut with pain but determination glittering in his eyes, and I had to force down the panic inside of me so that I didn’t go too fast. We hung close to the side of the street in the shadows of the buildings, drawing ever close to the raging fire as we turned another corner.



Where were Cloying’s men? The question preyed on my mind as I kept a constant three-sixty surveillance, nerves jumping quicker than the sparks from the fire. Charlie barely seemed to register the danger, sweat glistening on his face as he labored for each breath, his eyes so empty that I took to saying his name every once in a while, just to see if he was still with me. The sound of his voice, no matter how remote, had never relieved me more than it did then.



We were so close to the fire now that I could feel its heat against my face, the cold air escaping as the heat pushed it out. Coughing as my lungs began to fill with smoke, I struggled on past the flaming buildings, forcing myself to stay calm. Charlie followed me blindly, his breath a smoky wheeze in my ears as his steps became more and more labored. My grip on his arm was so tight that it was probably hurting him, but my fear wouldn’t let go.



Over our heads, a rafter in one of the buildings caught fire, its wood creaking alarmingly as it was rapidly consumed. I gave it a wide berth as we passed, gasping for air as the stifling heat pressed against us. And suddenly the rafter, teetering on the edge of the roof, slipped off the building and crashed towards the ground with a mighty roar of flame. I was half-turned towards it, mouth falling open, when something crashed into me, knocking me to the ground.



My head cracked against the concrete with a much louder noise than expected, flames roaring in my ears as my vision blurred briefly. Charlie’s face swam before my eyes, just an inch away. His eyes were screwed shut and his mouth was open in a silent scream of agony as he shielded me with his body, sparks raining down on his back and sweat streaming down his face. I stared at him, time slowing around us, completely calm despite the raging fire. That something was rising in me again, lifting my hand to touch his tortured face.



And then suddenly the fiery rain ceased and he rolled off me with a groan, lying still on the ground with his eyes half-closed. I pushed myself to my knees next to him, holding his hand again as I begged him to get up, to keep going. The smoke clouds overhead danced in his eyes, his face streaked with sweat and blood and soot. We were so close – the fire was already receding – if he could just make it another few blocks…



Slowly, so slowly, Charlie got to his feet once more, his face like death, and we began to move through the street. Choking and coughing, I refused to release his hands, my eyes stinging and watering as we fought our way through the thickening smoke. Ten feet…twenty feet…he wasn’t going to make it, my arm wrapped around him, the back of his sweatshirt charred now to match mine…he had only thought of protecting me, even when the sparks hit him…fifty feet, sixty feet…Cloying’s men had to be around somewhere…



At last we were away from the fire, clean air entering our lungs as we staggered out of the smoke. We fell against the side of a building, my arms still around him, and I buried my face in his smoky, bloody sweatshirt, a sob of pure relief escaping my lips. Charlie wrapped his arms around me, face pressed against my hair as he held me close to him, only the wall keeping us on our feet.



He said something, his mouth next to my ear, but a buzzing cut across my hearing and I had to lift my head to look him in the eye before I heard.



“You have to leave me, Astrid.”



“What are you talking about?” I gripped the front of his sweatshirt, my voice trembling violently. “You’re not thinking right, Charlie, you’re going to be fine –”



His face twisted in a grimace of pain as he held my wrists to stop them from shaking, his eyes overly bright. “Please, Astrid, don’t fight me on this. We both know I’m not going to make it. You have to leave me here so you can get to safety and get help or something.”



I shook my head, biting my lip as I gazed at him pleadingly. “Charlie, please, I can’t let you do this.” As he opened his mouth to say something, I tried to think of some way to distract him, touching the dried blood on his sweatshirt and frowning. “How much of this is yours?”



Charlie looked down at his front as though seeing it for the first time, taking my hand in his as he removed it from his sweatshirt. “I don’t know,” he said after a moment, his free hand moving to his side as he winced again. I touched his side with a growing sense of anxiety, glancing down at his thigh to see fresh blood staining the shirt wrapped around his bullet wound. He took both my hands in his, eyes clouded as they fixed on mine, strangely distracting as I tore my eyes away from the bandage.



“You have to go now, Astrid. Cloying’s men are probably nearby.”



“I can’t!”



My voice was cracking along with my heart, the strain and terror and grief of the last hour crashing over me all at once. It must have shown on my face, because he gathered me in his arms again, holding me close to him and saying something quietly in my ear that I couldn’t hear over the great shuddering breaths of air I was taking. I was clutching the front of his sweatshirt too tightly, I could tell: His muscles were tense with pain, his legs shaking as he leaned against the wall for support.



But I couldn’t let go, couldn’t leave him there. The grief mounting inside was threatening to overflow as Jay’s face swam before my eyes, my heart aching as I gritted my teeth in an attempt to keep it together. He was rubbing my back gently, his chin resting on the top of my head as I made a huge effort to stop crying. I wanted to release the turmoil inside me with the silent scream that was building in my lungs.



“I can’t leave you too,” I whispered, voice muffled by his shirt, but he heard anyway. His hand moved over my hair as he stiffened, his grey eyes piercing mine as my head rose again to look at him. You’re living a lie…Something inside was still breaking, pain flooding through my chest, and the blue eyes still wouldn’t leave my mind, but my heart was overflowing.



His eyes were glimmering strangely as he held my gaze, glassy with pain and yet completely focused. Slowly, as if in a daze, I took his face in my hands, slippery with sweat and dirt and blood, my eyes fixed on his as they filled my vision. Something flickered in them, his back pressing harder against the wall as our proximity practically sparked. I was leaning in, unable to stop myself, and through half-closed lids I could see that familiar trapped look in his eyes again.



“Don’t,” he gasped suddenly, and the moment was gone, evaporated into the cool air. I stepped back, almost tripping as I felt my cheeks beginning to heat, unable to meet his eyes as I fought back tears again. He had flattened himself against the wall, his eyes wide and staring at me as I quickly looked at the ground. After a moment in which I resisted the urge to cover my face with my hands, he reached forward and caught my wrist.



“Don’t,” he said again, his voice very soft. I looked up at him, aching, and saw that his eyes were glistening. “Don’t do it just to make me come with you.”



“Charlie…”



I couldn’t find words. He seemed to gather the worst from the look on his face, shutters falling over his eyes as he released my hand and fell back against the wall, exhaustion etched across his features.



“I’m not coming with you, Astrid,” he said, suddenly fierce. “And I’m not going to let you stay here with me.”



It was impossible to try and change his mind, I knew, but that didn’t mean I had to like it. We glared at each other for a long moment before I blurted out, “You have to promise you’ll stay safe. Don’t do anything stupid.”



“All right.” Charlie looked relieved, pushing his hair out of his sweaty face with one hand, revealing the swelling bruise on his forehead. His eyes were still slightly crossed, a clear sign of a concussion, but he managed to focus on me. “I’ll try and follow you eventually, okay?”



“Just don’t do anything stupid,” I repeated, and he nodded, tapping the gun stuck into his waistband. I touched my jacket pocket, where I had stuck my own, and for a moment we both just looked at each other, both of us fighting to keep from saying it. And then I pulled my jacket more tightly around my body, biting my lip as he tried to smile reassuringly at me, though it came out as a grimace.



“See you around,” he said, his voice very casual, and I attempted a smile in return as I turned away. Just over fifty meters passed before I glanced back at him to see that he was on the ground again, his body doubled over as he threw up to one side and then leaned back against the wall. Resisting the strong urge to run back to him, I turned my eyes forward determinedly and kept on hand on my gun.



The sun was beginning to set now, casting a red glow over the sky that mirrored the fire behind me. My boots moved rapidly on the pavement, barely making any noise but sounding like bass drums in my ears. After about a block, I realized that I was shivering involuntarily, even my teeth chattering slightly, my fingers icy on the handle of my gun. I zipped Jay’s jacket a little tighter, my eyes stinging from a combination of the soot on its sleeves and the realization that his familiar scent had been wiped away.



Where had Joel and Josh gone? I couldn’t remember the exact location of the police station, relying on instinct as I hurried blindly through the streets. It had to be close if they were there already – how much time had passed since we left them, anyway? – and then I remembered the wonders of modern technology and pulled out my cell phone. Dialing Josh’s number, I pressed the phone to my ear as I continued walking rapidly.



As it searched for a nearby satellite, I scoped out the area, head swiveling. A noise to my left made my head whip in that direction, my phone moving away from my ear a few inches as I focused on the building across the street. A millisecond later, something whistled through the air and slammed into the screen of my phone, shattering it and knocking it out of my hand.



I was already sprinting, keeping close to the buildings on my side of the street as more bullets zinged against the bricks around me. It was impossible to fire back without being killed, and so I concentrated on finding a way out. I could see men moving in the buildings across the street, coming out into the open as I continued to avoid their bullets; they were more haphazard than accurate, but of course that was the style of a machine gun. But their aim couldn’t stay awful forever, and so I made a rash decision and ducked into one of the abandoned buildings, barreling through it in hopes that there was a back door.



Shoving my shoulder into a swinging kitchen door, I almost screamed in surprise as I swept recklessly into the room to come face-to-face with one of the Portuguese man. Reverting instead to the usual professional tactics, I threw myself to one side as he fired, bringing up my own gun to put a bullet through his skill.



Panting, I regained my balance and continued through the building, using a little more caution this time as my eyes swept the area. At last a door led to another street. I paused in the doorway, sheltered by a small awning as I performed a rapid but complete three-sixty to check out my surroundings. Deciding it was safe enough, I took off in a run down the street, hugging the walls of the buildings on the left side.



My breath was ragged in my ears but I was no longer shivering, the adrenaline that was pumping through my veins warming me. My thoughts were in wild turmoil, spinning from Josh and Joel to Charlie and his haunted eyes to the bullets slamming into Jay’s body as he collapsed in the middle of the street… I almost thought it was my imagination that had conjured up the noise of an engine behind me.



I threw myself against the wall of a building as the car crept up the street, black and sleek and coming straight towards me. The silhouettes of two men were obvious in the front of the car, the tops of their rifles jutting above the dashboard. Without wasting breath even to swear, I took off down the street, redoubling my pace as I looked around desperately for a way out. Just as I was reaching an intersection, another car pulled into the street, blocking my way.



Skidding to a halt, I whipped around to see that the first car had followed me up the street, only twenty meters away as it braked. The doors of the second car were thrown open, the top of a rifle sticking out before anything else. As the men began to step out as well, I raised my gun and fired in a very finite sort of way, calmly and methodically shattering the windshields of both cars before the bullets ran out.



Two men on either side of me, no way out in any direction. I stood in the center of my portion of street, still pointing the now-useless gun. Four rifles were pointed at me, the swarthy faces of the Portuguese expressionless as they waited for me to move. Just as I was seriously considering making a wild break for it, a voice came from the car to my right.



“So we finally meet again.”



My vocal cords froze, or else I would have said something quite rude. I swiveled on the spot, eyes widening as I watched Cloying himself step out of the backseat of the car, his movements slow and fluid like those of a snake. He was dressed completely in black, his sandy hair cut short, and his elusive eyes bored into mine. I was unable to move; I had forgotten just how forceful his presence was.



“Cat got your tongue?” He was smiling, a thin little smile that made my spine crawl, but there was a wild light of anger in his eyes as he looked at me. We had made him a wanted, desperate man, and it pleased him that he had done the same to me.



“What do you want?” I was relieved to note that my voice was steady. “Just kill me and get it over with.”



But he shook his head, still smiling as he walked forward. I clenched my gun a little more tightly, tensing as he stopped a few feet away. “Why don’t you put the gun down?” he said smoothly. “We both know it’s empty.”



I held his eyes for a long moment before the gun fell from my hand, clattering on the pavement as I felt a sense of defeat sink in.



“Good, good.” He motioned with one hand to the other car. “Why don’t we bring our friend out now?”



My stomach suddenly plummeting, I turned slowly, not wanting to see what I knew would be before me. Another Portuguese man was dragging someone out of the car, yanking his arms behind his back and forcing him to stand in front of the hood. I began to shake uncontrollably, fear returning as I stared at him. He raised his grey eyes wearily to look at me, attempting an encouraging look but failing as he all but fell against the car.



“Familiar situation?”



I had forgotten Cloying was still behind me, his voice drifting through my ears as I fought the urge to scream. The anger was clear in his voice now, breaking through his unshakable calm, and he walked forward so that he was standing just to my left, his eyes fiery as he looked at me.



“Just let him go.” My voice was low, trembling as I balled my fists in my jacket sleeves.



“You killed my man,” said Cloying, “so isn’t it only fair that I return the favor?”



I was breathing hard, trying to think of something to do, and it took me a moment to realize he meant Jay. “Your own man killed him,” I said, my voice cracking and my mind filling with images of the shock on his face, the wind ruffling his hair, that deep, deep red that had spread over his chest.



Michael Cloying didn’t seem to hear, advancing so that he stood somewhere between Charlie and I. “You weren’t supposed to get out in France. You weren’t supposed to find him either,” gesturing at Charlie with a gun suddenly in his hand. “But you did. And that’s made me very, very displeased.”



“Put the gun down,” I said, shaking. I felt unbearably helpless, just as I had at the manor, with Finn in the alley, with the dark blood that splashed across Jay’s chest. And I hated it. “Just leave him alone – can’t you see he’s already half-dead? Kill me instead. It would make you feel better.”



Charlie’s head rose, his eyes burning. “Astrid, don’t!” His voice was hoarse, dimmed with pain and fatigue.



Cloying leered at him. “How touching. Don’t you know by now that she will never return your childish affection?”



A muscle jumped in Charlie’s bloodstained jaw as he fought for a moment against the Portuguese man holding him, but he was simply shoved back against the hood. As Cloying’s attention was momentarily diverted, I hurled myself forward, knocking the gun out of his hand as we collided. Two bullets cracked into the cement around me before Cloying snarled at the Portuguese to stop firing, pushing me backwards so hard that I fell to the ground.



“Don’t you think you’re smart,” he growled, his eyes sparking insanely as he scooped his gun up once more, pointing it in my direction. “Let’s end this now.”



I was frozen on the ground, shoulders thrown back, and I barely had time to register his words before the sharp retort of the gun hit my ears.



Some say that they see their life flash before their eyes when they think they’re about to die, but only one thing flashed across mine as the bullet spun my way. It happened so fast – Charlie suddenly throwing himself forward, the bullet spitting out of the gun, the split second of pure panic followed by the confusion that there was no blood…except for the red that was dotting the front of Charlie’s sweatshirt.



The scream that had been building in me for hours now ripped out of my mouth, only my vocal cords aware of it as my ears were suddenly filled with a dreadful roaring. Lurching forward, I caught his shoulders as they collided with the pavement, his head snapping back. That deep, deep red stained his chests and my hands as I pressed against it, his eyes dilating and his mouth opening to gasp for air that wouldn’t come.



Some strange noise, half-sob, half-scream, was escaping my mouth as I shook him, saying his name over and over. He was slipping away, his blue eyes fixed on my face – but this was Charlie, not Jay. Jay was already gone, shot full of holes back in the alley, but Charlie was still clinging to life in front of me, blood bubbling at the side of his mouth. My desperate words came back to me – I can’t lose you, too – and I found myself saying them again.



“What a dedicated boy.” Cloying was somehow, inexplicably, still standing just a few feet away, his gun still pointed as me as he spoke. “He found the strength to jump in front of a bullet…for you.”



I couldn’t look at him, my entire body shaking as I clutched Charlie’s hands and pushed his hair out of his sweaty, bloody, dirty face and begged him to talk to me. I could barely move, barely think. He couldn’t be dying, I wouldn’t allow it, and yet I knew that it was out of my control, just as it was always out of my control. His eyes were huge, barely blinking as they fixed on my face, and very briefly his lips moved, just two simple syllables.



All at once time slipped and I was thrown back to France, to Cloying’s manor as I lay on the floor, held down by one of his guards, and the red flowers blossomed all over Charlie’s chest, just as they were now. The words that Cloying had said to me then came back, his voice sounding as clearly in my ears as if he were speaking them again. Every last one of them will cry for their mother…who do you think, then, that your friend is calling for at this moment?



But now I could hear what he was saying, what he had said, what he had been saying for years but I hadn’t heard. And I knew that Cloying was wrong, that Charlie hadn’t been calling for his mother; he thought only of someone else’s name as the bullet slammed into him.



Mine.



As if in a haze, I turned my eyes to Cloying, who was watching with that sarcastic little smile on his face. It widened as he met my gaze, his eyes black and mocking as he steadied the gun in my direction once more. I felt detached from the world, staring at the barrel of the gun and barely registering it, that with one simple contraction of muscles my life could be over. I felt nothing but the great tide of grief that was threatening to inundate my entire being. Something flickered in Cloying’s eyes as we looked at each other, something that caused him to hesitate with his finger on the trigger.



And then all hell broke loose.



A sudden squealing of brakes came from my right, another car appearing behind Cloying’s and the bumper of another just visible. More men began to spill into the street, causing the Portuguese men to turn away from Cloying and me to shoot at the more obvious threat. Still I felt nothing, watching Cloying as he looked over at the new arrivals and then back at me with a determined expression. Raising the gun, he fired once, the bullet spinning out of the barrel as it had just minutes before, the red already spreading through my mind –



– but pain sparked on the side of my arm, sending a flicker of flame through my mind as I gasped aloud. Cloying had missed – he had missed me though he had hit Charlie – and even as he leveled the gun again with a frustrated look, I found myself rising to my feet. I wasn’t even aware of how I was feeling, but the look I produced on my face as I gritted my teeth against the flickering pain drew a touch of panic into Cloying’s eyes.



Completely disregarding the gun in his hand, I took a step forward, thinking only of wrapping my hands around his neck and squeezing, squeezing until his life slipped away, but even as he raised his gun again, he was falling to the ground. A man stood several feet away, bullets still spitting from the end of his rifle as the deep red spread to Cloying’s chest.



Dimly I registered that all of Cloying’s men were on the ground, dead or clutching fatal wounds, and the agent that had shot him seconds before was now pointing the rifle at me, shouting for me to put my hands up in a British accent. When I didn’t respond – couldn’t respond – someone grabbed my arms from behind, and only then was my brain able to connect with limbs. The scream was boiling in my throat again as I fought the agent holding me, twisting and kicking and desperately trying to get back to Charlie.



He was still lying on the ground, red splashing the white cement, the sun’s dying rays illuminating his hair. I wasn’t strong enough to resist the man who held my arms, my breath ragged and gasping out of my mouth as I screamed. He simply dragged me away, shoving me up against their car and pulling my wrists together behind my back. My face collided with the window, my eyes squeezing shut as I fought back the tears.



“You’re under arrest…”



I barely heard what the agent was saying, my mind swirling with the blue and the grey and the red as he handcuffed me, the metal cold against my sweaty wrists and my upper arm throbbing from the bullet graze. As if from a distance I could hear British accents shouting, “We need a stretcher over here!” and “Where’s that ambulance?” and “Hurry up!” but my brain registered none of it. It was over, it was all over. Jay was gone and Charlie and Finn and Cloying, and it looked like I would soon be, too.



The agent behind me yanked at my arms, turning me and then pushing me back against the car so that we were face-to-face. “You’ve caused us a crapload of trouble,” he growled. “You know that?”



“Is he going to be all right?” I mumbled, my vision blurring as I struggled to focus on his face. I felt dizzy, stomach churning as I watched the setting sun dye his features red, a cool wind blowing my hair into my eyes. Red. The red was everywhere. But this time they weren’t flowers – they couldn’t be flowers – there could be no miracle.



“Well, crap–!”



Apparently unable to find words, the agent shunted me to one side so that he could pull open the backseat door, then proceeding to force me inside. I fell onto the backseat, the man pushing me over, slamming the door shut, and standing just outside the car, his gun pointed in my general direction but his eyes moving back to where everyone else was standing.



Ignoring my arm, I moved so that I was pressed against the door, ignoring the agent’s warning look as I strained to see past the backs of the other agents that stood in a clump around Charlie. The man that was kneeling at his side had a phone pressed to his ear, the other hand holding Charlie’s wrist with a look on concentration. Another man was seated nearby on the ground, one hand pressed to a splash of blood on his shoulder and a look of pain on his face.



I shifted on the seat, almost pounding the glass in frustration as I found my view blocked once again. Sirens began to sound in the distance as the agents moved so that I could once again see Charlie’s still body. The man by his side removed the phone from his ear, saying something that I couldn’t hear no matter how hard I tried. He looked up at the other agents, tucking his phone into his pocket with a resigned look, and even as the sirens came nearer, I saw him shake his head.



He hadn’t spoken, but his gesture roared in my ears as if he had yelled it. Palms braced against the window, leaving sweaty smudges, I went limp against the door, my head falling against the glass as the roaring in my ears overpowered me. My mind went completely blank, all feeling leaving my body as I closed my eyes, the scream buried in my throat.