- 𝙡𝙚𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙙𝙤𝙬𝙣 -
"It's knowing that this can't go on forever... likely one of us will have to spend some days alone."
In the three years since Hunter Callahan had joined firehouse 118, she had found a family that no matter how hard she tri...
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LET YOU DOWN. chapter thirty.
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HUNTER STOPPED IN HER TRACKS, pointing a finger at the small plant in front of them just off to the side of the trail, "there," she had said, nodding to the small patch of recently disturbed dirt.
Her face shown her defeat, the lack of emotions as she neared the inevitable end. Solotov snickered slightly as he pushed the girl down to her knees. Hunter winced at the pain in her side, wrists still bound by zip ties as she watched. "You want me to do it, I, uh, I booby trapped it."
The man shot her a knowing look, "I think I have it handled," as he tucked the pistol, Lane's pistol, into the back of his waistband. His fingers dug into the soft dirt, almost sand. The land around them was that of dry California dirt. A wall of trees stood a couple hundred yards away, most of the ground bare of real vegetation.
Her eyes watched closely as he pulled the small metal box from the ground. His wrist was injured, the black brace still wrapped around it tight. She had no weapon, but a few feet behind Solotov laid a rock on the ground— not something she would be able to reach.
Solotov pulled the small red notebook, the ledger, out from the box. That tiny book was what he had fought so hard for. In stealing that book, Hunter had the intention to draw Solotov out to her, it seemed the plan had worked a little too well in that moment.
"Interesting booby trap, Gunnery Sergeant," he laughed as he pulled the cool piece of black metal from the box. She swallowed hard, it was her own pistol, "always had tricks up your sleeve, I am going to miss that about you."
In that moment, Hunter stood to her feet, eyes boring directly into Solotov's not flinching or yielding as she stared him down. He had all he needed. Her eyes never left him, not as he raised the Smith and Wesson and clicked the safety off.
"Killed by your own gun," he mockingly laughed, "any last words, Callahan?"
"I've made my peave with god," she admitted, "I ain't afraid to die." She shouldn't have said anything to satisfy him, she didn't even shake her head to tell him no. Her chest rose and fell with each deep breath as she watched him quickly stand to aim the gun at her.
