I'm Here | ✓

30 - Pitfall

"What do you want?" Steve asked, flipping through a few crumpled one dollar bills. I peek inside the nearly empty gas station, trying to see some of the snacks hanging on the inside.

"Uhhh... maybe just a water, or... do they still have Snickers candy bars?"

"They do!" Steve lights up. "I was so happy when I found out. They're even better now."

"Then I'll take one of those, please. I love those." He gives a little nod.

"Sounds good. I'll be right back, babe." He gives me a small grin as he slips out of the car. I prop my feet up on the dash, watching him walk inside. I sigh. How did I get so lucky?

I take the knife out of my pocket and start delicately cleaning my fingernails with it, now that Steve's not here. I don't slip, and I hold my hand out, admiring my work when I'm done. It's surprisingly clean and soft, not caked with dust or blood like usual. I'm still wearing a jacket that covers up most of my left arm, but Katie reminded me that maybe it's not so bad, so I haven't been wearing gloves. It's a good decision, I think, but if I ever feel self-conscious, I can just stuff my hands in my pockets, and no one would ever know.

Steve's been in there a long time. I tilt my head, trying to see through the glare of the door. It's a small gas station with only a few aisles inside, but I don't see him. Maybe he's crouched down?

There's no one at the register either. That's weird, I would've sworn there was when we got here. My heart beats a little faster; I can hear it in my ears.

I twist around in my seat, glancing around. There are three other cars here. One is right behind me at a gas pump, but he was there when we got here, and that was probably 7 or 8 minutes ago. The man is still out of the car, wearing dark shades and gripping the nozzle, glancing up. There's another car parked halfway around the building to my right. It's just sitting there, running, but I can't see a driver. There are another three spaces to my left, and I recall that the driver walked in as soon as Steve and I pulled up.

I look back inside, genuinely worried. I can't see anybody in there, which makes me suspicious. I spy on the man standing at the pump from my mirror. He's looking at this car, or at least in this general direction; I can't tell with his mirrored glasses. The nozzle absentmindedly drifts away from his car as he holds it, and I realize he was never pumping gas in the first place.

I glance in the backseat, where Steve's shield is covered up by his jacket. I scramble to get it, and spot the man at the pump shove the nozzle back into the pump, attempting to lean casually against his car. I let him see the shield as I pick it up. His head tilts down and his mouth moves, but there's no one around. He's got a microphone.

I kick open the car door, brandishing the shield. I slip in front of the car and out of sight, but that doesn't stop the man from shooting at me; bullets shatter the windshield easily, and fragments of glass fall around me. I don't care. I wait for a pause, and make a mad sprint for the front doors. Steve is the only thing on my mind. We've been ambushed. I should've seen the red flags sooner.

I glance around. Snacks are scattered across the tile floor, metal stands knocked over. Something went down here, but there's nobody around. That is, until I hear crackling from a small dark hall in the corner, and a groan of pain. It's Steve. I race toward the sound and more bullets puncture the drywall in front of me. I duck down, pulling my body behind the shield. More crackling, and I want to scream that they should come get me, but then bullets ping off the shield again. I realize I have to survive this to save Steve.

Okay, okay. Breathe. Use your senses. There's three, no, four sets of footsteps, which means four or more guns. It's too tight in here for them to use any explosives, or they'd kill themselves too. It's probably 10 meters to the hallway, and then I'd have a wall to hide behind. I shuffle that way a little bit, despite the new flurry of bullets that fly past me.