Breathe

Chapter 45 - That Smile

 She flew at us. Without wasting another second, she dashed down the staircase in her spiked heels. Her dagger...was aimed at me.

"Al, get out of the way!" Phil exclaimed, pushing me out of the way.

Drawing his blade, he blocked hers. Lights sparked. Pushing her out, she skid across the floor, sliding smoothly on the linoleum. Just narrowly, he had sliced her arm, and her warm blood started to slowly slide down her arm.

"Tch," she sounded, wiping her mouth. Eyes narrowed and pose strong, she put her hands on her hips. In a heavily-accented voice, she inquired, "Why must you get in the way, boy?"

"Why must you go and try and attack my only friend?" Spreading his arms in front of me, he exclaimed, "If you want to get to Al, you have to go through me: his best friend!"

"I will if I must—"

Suddenly, she began to fervently shake her head. With eyes watery and pupils dilating, she screamed in her normal voice, "No, Eve, don't hurt them! They mean no harm—let them be. Choose... choose people besides them! They can't help us, anyway!"

Suddenly, she punched her chest. She winced a little.

"Shut it, Katherine—do not get in the way."

"You can't hurt Al!"

"I have to; thus, I will!"

One last time, she shook her head. Then, looking at us, she sighed. "It appears that Katherine is not willing to behave herself right now. However, I have met with her and now, it seems as if she is willing to submit for now. Thus, back to where we were." She threw her dagger to the ground and pulled a gun from underneath her dress. Loading it, she aimed it at us. "You have engaged battle with the wrong woman—prepare yourself!"

Likewise, Phil took out his pistol and pointed at her. "You still have to get through me, lady."

Seeing the glint in their eyes, I rushed for cover. Then, the onslaught of bullets began.

The sound of firing guns filled the room and with it, the smell of smoke. It suffocated me as I laid low near a pillar, trying to be out of sight—out of mind. Behind, I could hear the sound of sliding converse and the tap of heels and squinting, through the smoke, I could see two moving bodies. None of them were faltering. None of them were falling. But when I started to hear clicks, my heart started to pound.

No.

I couldn't tell who it was, but someone's gun was running out of bullets. From where I was sitting, I saw someone searching for spares, taking out their empty cartage for something more usable. And then, I saw it: in the shadows, I saw someone pull something out.

A dagger.

They pulled out a dagger.

But who was it? Was it Phillip? Was he going to strike her dead while she wasn't looking? Or was it Evangeline? Was she going to kill him while he was busy trying to load his ammo?

I opened my mouth but before I knew it, the dagger already pierced the person. I heard a man's shriek. It was Phil. 

Phil had been stabbed.

Frantically, I searched for my gun in my bag. There. I took it out and aimed at the shadows. From where I was, I could barely make out their shapes—I could barely tell who was who. Their bodies had merged, becoming just faint outlines that seemed to blend together. I knew that if I fired, there was a possibility that I might shoot the wrong person or miss.

Memories of Phillip flashed through my mind. I remembered his beaming, signature smile and all the happiness that passed through me when I just saw him standing there, smiling at me. I couldn't imagine a world without that smile—I wouldn't want to live in a world without that smile.

But then, words from before emerged. I remembered what our goal was: to retrieve Princess Evangeline no matter the cost. If I fired my gun, there was a chance that I might kill her; that by saving Phil, I would kill the only person who knew the antidote for the X.Q. gas. I couldn't do that. Not when thousands of lives are still on the line. Still, I had to protect Phil. I had to protect that smile.

Knowing what I had to do, I finally did it.

A shot was heard.