What Lasts in Us

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

The bullet hit Ethan right between the eyes. The prick collapsed like a sack of potatoes. In the split second it took for his 'friends' to react, I pried my handgun from my waistband and shot at the motorbike's headlight, plunging us into darkness.

Then Jai and the other twin started firing. How I managed to not get hit is a wonder, and for Charlotte not to be hit was even more of a miracle. But still, as soon as we were fired at, we both dropped to our stomachs on the ground. The only sounds, the only flashes, were of the guns – especially the shotgun, which didn't stop for what felt like an eternity. It cracked like thunder, it exploded in countless bursts, the twin barrels lighting up.

Eventually the idiots worked out that they hadn't hit anything, so the next logical step was to look down. All I knew was that Charlotte was beside me, wounded, so I slipped my hand up her arm and hauled her to her feet. She couldn't get her balance so as she stumbled the only part of her I could grab was her ass, which I shoved up and away.

Bullets pounded the grass where we'd been as we made a beeline for the trees on the other side of the property. The farmhouse bordered a forest – at least that was what it looked like – but there was at least a hundred metres of open field to cross to get there.

Charlotte wouldn't make it.

So I moved away from her, heading toward the highway, and shot at the two fuckwits who I assumed were still at the front of the farmhouse. I deliberately wasted the entire magazine before taking off again.

There was shouting, but whether they were following me, I had no clue. As long as they headed in this general direction so I could double back and search for Charlotte, it'd help me immensely.

I couldn't wait to find out if my half-cocked plan worked because I really didn't want to face off with someone while I was unarmed. So I entered the trees and backtracked, heading in the direction I hoped Charlotte was.

The forest was claustrophobic and treacherous. I tripped over god knew what, and stumbled over a fucking rabbit. The ground was uneven and the trees were pressed tightly together; my clothes caught as I moved through the underbrush, and my pack as well as Charlotte's kept getting caught on low-hanging branches.

But I pushed my way through the foliage, over the dead leaves, under the blanket of night and trees. I paused intermittently to hear for any sounds other than my footsteps, or the animals that took up residence here. But I heard nothing, not even shouting or talking in the distance. Whether it was because they'd gone or because sound couldn't penetrate the trees, I had no idea.

When I ran into Charlotte ten minutes later, it was a surprise to us both. She was crouching inside a crashed airplane, one of those light ones that could only fit one person. The cockpit was intact, and that was where she popped up from when she'd heard me. Her finger squeezed the trigger and I'd only been able to avoid it because I was so close to the airplane. The bullet bounced off the metal, the sound ricocheting around the tiny clearing the plane crash had made.

"Charlotte," I whispered, before she decided to shoot at me again. "Charlotte, it's me."

Her silhouette lowered the gun. "Nate?"

Crouching, I followed the metal toward her voice, using my hand as a guide. And there she was, sitting in the cockpit, the glass pulled back. It looked like most of the damage sustained to the airplane was to its nose, its belly, and its now non-existent wings.

"Oh my god." She released the words on a sigh. In the dark it was hard to read her expression, but I heard her sharp intake of breath as she manoeuvred her way out of the cockpit. She jumped down onto the ground beside me to lean against the plane. She flicked on her flashlight.