The Protectors

Chapter 10 (fixed)

A/n

OMG THE WATTPAD ON THE IPAD IS SO FRUSTRATING!!!!!!! >:((((

It posted my first draft, not the final.

So, here is the finished version of chapter 10.

As always,

Vote, comment, and most importantly,

Enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 10

"Wait. I am going to say goodbye."

"Alright. But make it fast."

My father turns around and walks towards me.

I sob loudly. "NO!!!!!! DON'T GO!!!" I look down and grow quieter, pleading, pleading: "Please."

"Emity. Do you honestly think I'm that stupid?" he whispers in a hushed voice.

I look up. I am so confused. "what?"

"Shh! Think about it. Would I still be alive if I was? I was trained to be in these situations."

"But.."

He reaches through the waves of electricity and covers my mouth, then pulls his hand back. "Listen. On my signal, knock three times on the third tile to the right in the fifth row. Set the alarm off by going halfway through. Then, exit through the top of the room. You can climb up the wall if you use the little hand and feet pads in the gray box. Once you're on the roof, run to the right side of camp. Hop the fence, but be careful, it's barbed wire. Then wait for me by the willow. Hide yourself in reeds across the lake, they won't be able to track you. Then wait for me. If I'm not there in an hour, then keep running. You'll find a little shop. They have a helicopter there, and they can fly you back to camp."

"But-"

"Just do it."

I sigh in frustration. "What's the signal?"

"Trust me," he gives me that half-smirk I remember from long ago- "you'll know."

And with that, he kisses my hand.

"I love you, Emity. Be strong."

I know that's my cue to start sobbing again. "I love you too, Daddy."

More chuckling.

And with that, my father gets up and walks over to the torture machine.

Garabel turns it to level five. My father winks at me.

I hear the rumbling from the machine.

A small flame starting to form.

What if doesn't work? I wonder.

But it does.

Because with that, my father judo-flips the Ritcher twins and one of their guns slides towards me.

He runs off to the exit.

The leader stands up. And kicks the Ritcher twins as they lie on the ground in agony.

"Well, what are you idiots waiting for? Kill him!"

They get up and stumble out with all the others following them.

Once they are gone, I shout to Quinton and repeat my father's instructions. He nods and goes to work trying to find the tile, as do I.

I finally locate it and knock three times.

The tile begins to quiver.

Then it begins to rumble.

All of the tiles give way, as do the electric fence and the shackles binding us.

I look to the left and see Quinton's cell has done the same. I toss him my gun and pick up another that was left on the floor in the hasty chase of my father.

They must have been real idiots to leave prisoners unguarded.

Or overconfident.

I shrug. Or both.

We exit halfway through the tiles and set off the alarm, and quickly run to the gray box and grab the hand and feet pads, hastily putting them on.

We begin to climb up the wall. Halfway up I decide that I will keep the pads and show them to Brandon. This could really advance the physical section of the initiation process. And our inventory for contraptions to use in battle.

I am three-quarters of the way up when I hear gunshots from the entrance. Quinton yells in pain and falls to the ground.

I see where the bullets came from.

His father.

He pulls out a knife and slowly walks towards Quinton.

I reach for my gun and click the safety off.

He looks up just as the bullet hits him.

In the eye.

He stumbles back in shock and fires blindly, missing my arm by a centimeter, maybe less. Sighing with relief, I jump down and grab Quinton by the arm. He limps to the wall again. There is a bullet hole in the side of his right leg. I cringe in disgust. I hear footsteps. I quickly climb through the wall with Quinton in one arm. Wow. Training has really gotten me stronger.

When I reach the top, I bandage his leg with a piece of my sweater.

"Emity-"

"Quinton, we have to go-"

"I can't make it."

"Of course you can. Let's go."

"Go on without me."

I turn and look him in the eye. "I don't think you understand. I'm not leaving you."

"Emity-"

I cut him off with a kiss. Then pull back.

He grins. "Alright, maybe I can make it a little further."

I laugh and pull him towards the fence. "Can you climb it?"

"I climbed a tree when I was seven with a broken leg. So yeah, I think maybe."

"Okay. C'mon."

We make it over with little struggle. He cries out a couple times, but the bullet wound doesn't seem to affect him severely. We finally make it to the lake. The water soothes our injuries, but blood pours out of his wound unendingly and I know they will find us. So we hide underneath a willow right next to us. In about fifteen minutes, my father comes running towards us. He carries Quinton to the shop, where they call the helicopter. It looks like we will make it out alright.

The helicopter arrives. We climb aboard and prepare for takeoff. All of a sudden, I hear more gunshots. They're coming.

We are fifty feet in the air when the leader, Quinton's dad, shows up again. He shoots up into our helicopter.

He shoots again.

But this time, he hits our pilot in the head, who sinks to the floor

I scream as the helicopter comes spiraling to the ground.

My father grabs the controls at the last second and pulls up. Twenty feet.

Ten.

Five.

All of a sudden we lift upward into the air.

My father is driving the helicopter.

I hear Quinton's father cursing and yelling bloody murder in the distance as we fly off into the distance.

I sigh with relief.

I am heading home.

Little did I know what awaited me when I arrived.