Snow

Chapter Three

Somehow, my knife hit its target.

Mostly.

I'd propelled towards the short-haired woman. I didn't have the best aim. I just hoped the blade would land somewhere useful. And it had.

It landed straight in the woman's shoulder.

My feet hit the ground milliseconds after my blade sunk in, but I couldn't keep myself up. My knees buckled as I hit the ground, knife stuck in her shoulder. She howled and let go of the shooter's chains before pulling out her gun.

I scrambled backward. I didn't have anything left to defend myself with. She aimed at me.

But before she could shoot...

"Thalia," the other gang member interrupted.

"What?!" Thalia spat back.

"She could be useful. Why waste another good one?" The man walked towards Thalia, hand held out as if to placate a wild animal.

"She doesn't deserve to live."

"Thalia...," the man warned.

She stared down at me, her fingers gripping the gun tightly enough to turn them white.

And then finally...

"You're right," she replied, her aim unwavering. "But I don't care."

She pulled the trigger.

The sound of clattering metal filled the air. Then, a loud crack as the chains to the shooter's handcuffs slammed into Thalia's skull.

The bullet that'd been destined for me was thrown off course by the attack and hit a crate. I stared in shock. I needed a weapon. The gun that Thalia had been holding had fallen at her feet. I snatched it off the ground just as another shot rang out.

The blonde man still holding the prisoners had his tranquilizer gun aimed at me, but the dart had missed. I pointed the real gun at him without hesitation. I wasn't sure I had the guts to shoot him, but my ploy seemed to work. He put his hands up, dropping the gun to the floor.

The chained shooter tackled Thalia to the ground, her face smashing into cement. He slammed his shackles against her head, knocking her out.

Her partner seemed conflicted. His weapon was on the ground. It was two against one.

I kept my gun pointed at him for good measure.

"Just let them go, and you can walk out of here unharmed," the shooter warned the man. I hoped he knew that I wasn't serious about shooting this guy.

It was like he was doing the math to see if he could take us. I wondered what kind of punishment he'd face for this.

Then, he desperately sprinted to the window, dragging the two weak hostages behind him.

Unfortunately, the added weight made it impossible for him to move quickly.

The boy sprinted after him, pinning him to the ground just as he had Thalia. He drew his shackles up prepared to knock him out. Silver flashed in the air, and I shouted, but it was too late. The man's blade sliced across the boy's shoulder. I started forward, but there was nothing I could do. I only had my gun, and it was useless in this situation. I didn't trust my aim enough to shoot the right person.

The boy quickly regained his composure and brought down his shackles on the man's face, not once, not twice, but three times. Finally, he passed out. My arm shook with adrenaline. The gun I held was still shakily pointed at the now-unconscious gang member.

My fingers released their tight grip on the gun, letting it fall to the ground. The boy turned to face me. He was taller than me by a couple of inches with murky brown hair, shocking gray eyes, and an angular jaw. There was a tiredness in his expression, one I understood. He was like me – he'd been through a lot and knew what horrors lay outside. Yet, he was still here.