“Something like that.”
Roman moved to the elevator which led underground. He pressed the button to summon it. Nothing happened. “She’s cut the power.”
“Won’t make a difference.” Candle pushed past Roman and rammed his shoulder into the doors. The metal buckled, just enough to widen the gap between the doors an inch. Candle then worked his fingers into the gap and forced the doors open. With a horrible metallic squealing, the steel gave way. “Ever climbed down an elevator shaft before?” he asked.
“Once. I didn’t really enjoy it.”
Candle went in first. His chest lit the empty shaft as he descended the ladder. His light glinted off all the metal, making the entire shaft come alive with its pulsating, deep blue. It looked damn creepy. The journey down had taken Roman less than a minute in the elevator, but climbing down these thin metal rungs, it took several. Finally, he heard Candle jump off the ladder and land at the bottom with a thud.
Roman descended the last dozen rungs and inspected the square platform they now stood on. “This must be the top of the elevator.”
Candle nodded, kneeling and finding a hatch. He tore it open and clambered down into the darkness.
Roman followed. His pulse pounded in his ears as he dropped into the tight, enclosed space. He faced the closed doors, grimacing. “If I were Juliette, I would—”
“—have all my men standing right outside these doors, ready to shoot the first bastard to come through,” Candle finished for him.
“Something like that.”
“So… you got another plan that involves surrendering?”
“I don’t think it would work this time.”
“Good, because I’ve got a better idea.”
“And what’s that?”
“You stand back and let me do all the work.”
Roman nodded, moving to the side of the elevator and pressing himself against the wall.
Candle slammed his fist against the doors. The entire elevator shook as the steel bent beneath his knuckles. Next, he stepped to the side of the doors, opposite Roman, and repeated his trick of slipping his fingers into the crooked dent between the doors, ready to pull them open.
“Ready?” he asked.
Roman’s heart was hammering against his ribs so hard he thought they might break. “No point delaying the inevitable.”
Candle’s thick arms bulged as he tore the elevator door open. The shriek of metal grating against metal echoed inside the enclosed space.
Then silence.
Roman and Candle stood on opposite sides of the open door. All Roman could hear was his own breathing. No shouts of alarm, no warnings. Maybe there wasn’t anyone waiting for them after all. Maybe Juliette’s last line of defence was upstairs. Maybe we’ve actually—
A crossbow bolt flew through the open door, hit the back of the elevator, ricocheted and struck the roof, and finally landed at Roman’s feet.
Candle charged out the door, leaving Roman behind in darkness.
Gunshots. Screams. Chaos.
Roman waited in the elevator, fist closed tight around the handle of his pistol, as the clamour of fighting rung in his ears. Howls of pain cried out — some were abruptly silenced, others wouldn’t stop. More gunshots, accompanied by flashes of light. The clash of steel on steel.
Still, Roman waited.
Two final gunshots. One last scream. The sounds of combat ended, leaving just the howling of wounded. It was over.
And slowly, every muscle tense, breathing rapid and shallow, Roman stepped out of the elevator.
Ruby returned to consciousness when a boot kicked her in the ribs.
Her entire body ached like her skin had been peeled off and salt was being rubbed into her flesh, but that was nothing compared to how her arm felt. She gingerly twitched her fingers and feet, making sure she could move — apart from her right arm, everything functioned. She wasn’t paralyzed, at least. Something hard was digging into the small of her back. She reached underneath herself to pull it out.
The boot kicked her again, harder this time. “Don’t move.”
Ruby opened her eyes. At first, everything was black, then light began to appear, swirling into the shape of a man standing over her, grinning. He had a face that looked like it, instead of Ruby, had just been squashed against the pavement. “It’s my lucky day,” he said, holding up a rusty knife for her to see. “Capturing you alive means double pay.”
“I am not being a hostage again,” Ruby spat. Slowly, she inched her hand towards what was beneath her.
“Keep telling yourself that. You’re going to—”
Ruby pulled out the gun, aimed for the space between his eyes, and pulled the trigger.
Nothing happened.
The mercenary kicked her again, laughing. Ruby cursed her luck. Stupid unreliable guns. This is why she had always preferred a bow. An arrow never misfired.
Another kick, this one aimed at her groin. Ruby instinctively tried to block with her arm. Big mistake. Any movement flared sparks of pain through the entire limb. The mercenary’s cruel laughter rang in Ruby’s ears as he grabbed her by her good arm and began to drag her away.
A shadow fell over her, eclipsing the sun. Then the shadow became a giant, and that giant landed on the mercenary. They both hit the ground. Ruby was released. She crawled away as the two wrestled furiously.
The fight ended quickly. Caleb had the element of surprise, and was twice the mercenary’s size. He grabbed the man by the back of the neck, slammed his face into the pavement, once, twice, three times. As far Ruby could tell, the mercenary was dead after the first time.
Caleb turned to Ruby. “Sorry about the wait,” he grunted. “I had to climb down the old-fashioned way. You okay?”
Ruby looked at her arm. “No.”
“You’re right. It was a stupid question.” Caleb gingerly helped Ruby to her feet, one arm around her waist, the other under her shoulder. “Can you walk?”
Ruby tried a few steps. Her left ankle nearly buckled beneath her weight. “Not fast enough.”
“Then I’m going to have to carry you.”
“No. Get to the ministry and find Sparks. You came here to save him, not me.”
“I told you: I’m pretending to be a good man.” Caleb lifted Ruby by her waist and slung her over his shoulder. “And a good man wouldn’t leave a friend behind.”
Ruby didn’t have the strength to argue as Caleb took off at ran across the square, heading for the Security Ministry. She could tell he was trying the best he could to be gentle with her, but their rush for time was more important than her comfort, so she gritted her teeth and ignored the pain that throbbed through her limbs with each step he took.
Caleb ran past dozens of arrow-studded corpses – Ruby’s earlier kills. “If nothing else,” Ruby said, “at least we’ve given Juliette something to remember us by.”
“Aye.”
“It’s ironic, considering she was the one who taught me how to aim a bow.” Ruby managed a thin smile, but it quickly disappeared when she glanced behind them.
Roughly two dozen militia were exiting the building where she and Caleb had made their stand. Some were obviously wounded, or helping carry someone wounded. None appeared to be in any rush to chase her and Caleb. She quickly noticed why: half of them were armed with crossbows. They formed a line, loading their weapons, taking their time as they took aim. Caleb had nowhere to hide, nothing to use for cover.
“Shit,” Ruby breathed. Caleb glanced behind, repeated Ruby’s line, and quickened his pace.
The militia fired.
Ruby wasn’t the type of person who prayed. However, at that moment, she prayed that the arrows wouldn’t fly true.
But Caleb was too big of a target to miss.