Page 95 of Borden 3

“It actually is. You’re less of an asshole—”

“Emma, get the fuck out of the car!” Hector suddenly screamed. Before I could respond, he removed his seatbelt and dived over me. Loud bangs erupted, smashing up the wheels of the car. I screamed at the top of my lungs as Hector opened the door and literally shoved me out of it as more bullets tore through the air. I landed on the road, my head smacking against the sidewalk curb. Screams followed. Cars honked and engines roared and drivers stepped on their gas, smashing into other cars as they attempted to get away from the gunmen.

Where had they come from?

I was discombulbated, shitting myself from panic.

Bullets continued to fly, smashing windows. Hector fell out over top of me and continued to shield me as he looked around, frantically. Borden’s men did the same thing, falling out of the passenger side doors, armed with guns. They fired back, their guns aimed at the street across from us, screaming at us to go.

“Get her out!” Ronald ordered Hector.

Hector grabbed me by the arm and pulled at me to get up. “Stay crouched,” he hissed at me.

I did as I was told, jumping once more when bullets rained down on the car, whipping past my head. Oh, my God.

Pedestrians ran in scattered directions, disappearing into nearby shops.

“Now’s our chance,” Hector yelled at me. “RUN!”

A cold sense of deja vu seized me.

Graeme’s distant shouts telling me to run, and I had merely crouched there, watching him get killed. Eyes wide with terror, it was happening all over again, but this time I was going to listen.

I ran as fast and as hard as I could, blending into the crowd of people as Borden’s men fired back. Was it me they were after then? Or were we just caught in a crossfire between two gangs going at it?

A prickling sensation caused me to look over my shoulder. Relief swamped me as I saw Hector caught up to me. He grabbed onto my hand, steering me into a nearby shop. I looked over my shoulder at the scene, hearing the distant sounds of police sirens. Hector pounded angrily at the door, causing me to look back at him, my chest heaving for breath.

“They won’t fucking open!” Hector growled. “Everyone’s locking up—”

Bullets whizzed past our heads and Hector grabbed hold of me again and we ran. This time, it was me steering him, pulling him into short streets. We zigzagged down familiar alleyways, the trails of New Raven still etched like a tattoo in my brain.

These used to be neighbourhoods I frequented.

Alleyways I used to walk down in the dead of night.

We even raced past Denny the Dick’s diner, the CLOSED sign a clear indication he hadn’t found another sucker to get a loan from to keep funding his dumpster fire.

We’d barely gotten far enough, though. Lungs on fire, I could still hear the violence. The gunshots and the sirens. The revving of approaching cars. I spun around the street we were on, nearly deserted as people fled; I glanced the vacant storefronts of the dying street and busted down windows, considering ducking into one of them—

Bullets soared once more, but this time in the opposite direction. Once again we were crouched on the ground, this time pressed against the glass door of an abandoned shop.

A white van blazed down the road, stopping just by the store front feet from us. It parked on its side and the van doors opened. Bodies flooded out, firing straight ahead.

“Keep your head down,” Hector ordered.

But I turned to see what the men were firing at. And then there they were, a group of men on foot, with bandanas concealing their faces, firing back.

Hector’s fist pounded at the door, like he was trying to bust it down. It didn’t budge. He gripped the handle and tried to turn it, but it was locked. We were stuck.

I was dizzy from fear.

What the fuck was going on?

“Tell them I love them,” I said, but the gunfire drowned out my words. Hysteria choked me. We were going to get caught in the crossfire. “Tell Borden I love him and our boy!”

Bullets fired all around us. One landed over my head. Hector gripped my arm and tugged harshly, forcing my attention.

His brown eyes stared directly into my own. He made hand signals. Pointing at me. Pointing down the street.

---