My eyes remained fixed on their corpses, my mind being unable to rid the persistent thought that if my eyes were to leave them for just a second, they would raise back to their height and fulfil their objective to hunt me down. My unsteady breathing was the only sound audible, the cold air forcing a cloud off mist to accumulate with every breathe I exhaled.
A raucous metallic slam sounded around the area, my body jerking at the sound while my eyes searched frantically for its founder. To my right, a crate lay adjacent against another two, which were stacked upon one another, reaching around ten metres high. My attention had been drawn to the area by the shuffling emitting in its proximity, though with the limiting lighting, my eyes found nothing. I leaned my head against the wall behind me, my body still in a desperate attempt to catch my breath back.
"Cliff? Ray? Where are you-" A voice not too far from me broke the silence, only to be cut off abruptly but the penetrating bullet that knocked him down within seconds. The thud of his body met my ears, causing my eyes to locate his body less than five metres away from me. The bullet had stricken the exact same spot as it had with the other men, leaving the blood to dispense from the space between his eye sockets. My heart was beating at an all time high, knowing the bloodshed was edging closer toward me as every second passed by.
As the moon peaked from behind a passing cloud, I took the opportunity to whip my head toward the crates, where I was able to make out a male silhouette standing on the lower crate. His structure was firm and solid; his feet spread evening in a harsh stance, ready to flee under any circumstance. Within his palms he gripped a hand gun, its position fixed on the ground below. My eyes squinted restlessly to make out his face, though his complexion wasn't distinct enough, so I was left with a puzzle that I couldn't solve.
My movements stilled abruptly as his head titled, moving gradually in my direction, pausing once it was directly facing me. My breathe hitched in my throat because even though I knew that this person was evidently not a fan of the people hunting me down, I was still in a more than venerable position considering the weapon dangling from his hands.
My feet scrambled, their movements failing as he raised the gun so that it was in line with his chest, the barrel facing directly toward me. Any attempts to move were futile; my body immobile aside from the shaking that was ridden within my veins, making me question whether its presence was caused by the cold or the pistol aimed at my swirling head. The safety clasp was lifted; causing my eyes to slam shut in an instant, but even after the strangely familiar rumble sounded, I remained unharmed. My eyes flew open, catching sight of a trail of blood pooling at my feet. I followed the liquid, tracing it to the side of my leg, passed my side and where my arms lay limply at my side and to the oozing body beside me. My eyelids blinked repeatedly, as if trying to comprehend what was in front of me. A man, who must have been mid twenties, lay on his back, the same hole indented between his eyes, his entire body stiff. I swung my head to catch sight of the shadow that had fired the gun, only to find that he was gone.
My lungs opened up, preparing to release an unimaginable scream from my throat, but the sound never came. Before I was even aware of a presence couching behind me, a hand was clamped over my mouth.
"Sh, Adelaide, it's me." My eyelids shot open, the dark room allowing little to nothing to enter my line of vision, the suffocating atmosphere that shrouded me in my nightmare lingering in the air. Despite the lack of light, I knew within an instant who was cradling my quivering exterior; the gentle caressing of my cheek being an action that I was somewhat accustomed to.
"I'm sorry," I mumbled. Luke reached over to turn the bedside lamp on while I sat up slightly to give him room to rest his back against the headboard.
"Don't be," he replied, lifting me from his lap and onto the mattress. He then perched me between his bent legs, my back against his chest, before he swung his arms around my waist, his fingers interlocking with one another over my stomach. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'll be fine," I replied, picking at a loose thread on the bed sheet. "How'd you know?"
"I heard you," he mumbled as he pushed his chin forward, resting it on my shoulder. "You were screaming, thrashing around," he said, taking a breath, almost as if what he was saying pained him. "Your mum came in; she was horrified."
"What'd you say to her?"
"That you'd had a quite few in New York, so I explained that you just needed to wake up and that I'd sort you out after," he said, to which I simply nodded, lowering my head to watch my fiddling hands.
It was quiet for a few moments and I knew that Luke had something else on the tip of his tongue. I remained silent, waiting for him to continue. "I know that you had one after our argument Adelaide," he admitted, his voice low and soft, almost as if he was scared that I would crumble under any sound. "I stood outside of your door like a coward for a good fifteen minutes," a light laugh escaped his lips, causing a smile to stretch across my face at the sound. "By the time I actually had the guts to reach for the door handle, you'd woken up. So, I'm sorry."
"Don't be," I stated, repeating the same phrase that he had used only a few minutes ago. Luke attempted to respond, but was cut off by a gentle knock at the door before my mother cautiously entered the room. Slippers clung to her feet, the bottom of her pyjama trousers tickling the exposed skin. Her face was twisted into a look of concern, the wrinkles beside her eyes deeper than usual, her mouth set in a saddening frown. I smiled, wanting her to understand that I was okay, knowing that it would have pained her for me to be otherwise.
She stood by the door, her eyes flittering between Luke and I, her lips curving up into a soft smile. "I came in here to check on you," she sighed, "but it looks like there's no need." She laughed quietly to herself, tilting her head toward Luke, signalling that she had been referring to his presence.
"I can give you two some time Julie?" Luke suggested, raising his chin from my shoulder.
My mother cast a glace my way before responding, "I think we're good, we can talk in the morning." She edged her feet backwards, tightening the belt around her dressing gown. "I'm going to head back off to bed now."
"Night," I said, smiling at her as she left the room, closing the door behind her.
"Com' on, we need to do the same," Luke whispered. He tugged at my waist and pulled further down the mattress so that we were lying on our sides. His face nestled into the crook of my neck, his arms gripped around my sides.
