A Bullet Or Two

Chapter 10.2

Just as they were to make another right, a whistle tore through the chaotic noise of the men arguing. Halting, the guards gripped onto her tighter. All three squeezed in like she was some flower to be trod on. 

Ginger-beard turned, ready to explode at whoever interrupted his sightless marching. Something light bubbled where her chest hurt, hopeful that the owner of the noise would save her. Someone like Jonnie. Or Billy. Or even her step-father. And then that light popped, dissipating back into dull aching as she watched that scarred smirk etch across the ginger's lips. He met the newcomer halfway through the hallway and embraced them, parting with a slap on the back.

Delilah battled relief with terror. The pulsing in her chest picked up pace, thundering through veins. The newcomer, masked beneath a cloak and tricorne, strolled towards the group, while her cousin's killer waltzed away - humming a light tune to himself.

Her skin felt itchy the closer he got, full of heat in fact. Was it grief? Anger? Terror? Her emotions were twisting, clouding her thoughts over the drumming of her pulse.

"A'll tak her from here, boys."

There was something about his voice that was familiar. Low. Whispered yet loud - she heard and understood his every syllable. Delilah squinted at the sudden blare of light as her captors dispersed. Her swollen eyelids stung as she forced them to stay open. And at blurred glimpses of his cloak and tricorne, the familiarity grew. She had seen him before.

Pondering was no use to her now, however, when the human chains finally released. The men greeted one another, more pats on the backs and welcome to the hidden man. Although entirely numb, Delilah forced her legs forwards, not missing another second.

She twisted toward the previous direction. Hobbling down the corridor to the right, biting down gasps at the nerves that ignited in her legs. She pushed and pushed each leg onwards, breaking through the pain, desperate to seize the moment.

An orchestra of footsteps startled behind her.

Do not look back.

Her legs were barely moving inches at a time.

Do not look back.

Her breathing was laboured. Spots of white dotted her eyes. Her left leg was seizing.

Do not look back.

They were getting closer and closer. She turned left rather than right. Heading back to where it all started. Heading back the right way. But again the footsteps were encroaching. Any moment she would be grabbed. Where was Jonnie? Where was Billy? Baron?

Then there was a crash. Then a bang. And then...nothing.

Don't look back. Delilah stopped and looked back.

Her captors lay unconscious on the floor. The ginger had returned but he collapsed to the ground, stomach down, and, sadly, his chest still raised. The others, some were bleeding. Some were bruised. Her captors were all blacked out, all except for the hidden one. Rather, he stood opposite, gun lowering from pointing at her. Some smoke clouded the barrel. A bullet was shot.

She checked her body all over. Chest. Stomach. Hips. Le...Delilah finally noticed the liquid soaking through her dress. She glanced up at the man, who only stared back and made no move. Red and black tainted the gold fabric.

Her brain finally caught up to the rest of her body. Dizziness overcame her, and her stomach coiled as tight as her heart did. Curling over, the pain was immense. Worse than any cramping she had experienced before - exaggerated by the shaking of her left leg. The white spots returned in full force and Delilah gave into the dizziness, collapsing in a heap on the floor.

The pain was unbearable, like fire scorching her inside. Like her legs had been trampled by horses again and again and again.

"Ma lady! Ma lady!" The hidden man was above her. Her body shook beneath his hands on her shoulders - his palms too hot, but then one too cold, so very cold. "This wasn't meant tae happen, sweet... Saol... Delilah... Delil-" His voice quietened, like whispered notes to the halls. Delilah felt so heavy, like she was sinking, sinking back into the mattress, back into the stream. "Eyes open, Delilah!" 

A scream burst from Delilah's lips as she was turned onto her side. The pain was back. Tenfold. Her stomach lurched and vomit scorned her throat as it left her body. "Keep going. Keep going. Get it aw out."

Water and bile and the entire day's meal regurgitated from her body. Then a slew of black liquid expelled. Delilah coughed out the last of the fluids, then lay exhausted and broken. She did not care for the man now helping her. The one that would now take her away.

Her entire being was destroyed. Limbs limp and dismal. Insides battered and bruised. Her soul was charred. Burning with the torment of her dead cousin's corpse laying metres away inside the bedroom.

"Just kill me." Delilah spluttered. "End this for me now."

"Sorry ma lady, A can't do that." He brought a hand to her face, and scraped the strands of hair away that had mixed with the wretched vomit puddled next to her. "A'm gonna get you help." Without warning, sharp cold blocks grazed beneath her waist, and something soft scooped beneath her head. Delilah had no will to tense at the touch. Pausing his movements, the man continued "This is gonna hurt." Then he lifted her.