Page 16 of Mayflower

“You are done, Raven,” he says in a tone etched with hatred. “Last words? A message for Butcher?”

Skiba wants to see me beg before he pulls the trigger.

I won’t.

I don’t want to think about Butcher or him. All I see in my mind is her.

“Just fucking finish him already, and let’s roll,” one of the thugs hisses.

Marina Abramovic said, “It’s important to know when to stop and how to die.”

I’ve always known I would die violently. My life was a punishment. Then God gave me her. However little time I spent with Maddy was a blessing, relieving me from guilt and hatred.

“You get what you deserve.” The cold barrel bumps against my pulsing temple soaked with blood and rain as Skiba cocks the gun.

I close my eyes, seeing only her smile.

The loud shot that pierces the air resonates with a harsh push of the gun barrel against my temple. The chain tugs me back, and I topple onto the ground.

Pain explodes through my body. The stab wound in my stomach hurts like I’ve been staked. My zipped wrists burn.

Another shot echoes above.

Something heavy hits the ground next to me.

Another shot.

Another thud.

A moan next to me makes my eyes snap open.

My body hurts everywhere. But not my head. Not where I was supposed to be shot.

I’m still here.

With effort, I lift my head. Through swollen eyes, blinded by blood, sweat, and rain, I see Skiba lying motionless beside me.

What the hell?

The rain pours over my face, cooling my burning skin. I don’t know what’s happening. The chain around my neck is loose. My hands are still tied. The thug who held my chain is on the ground, motionless, but there is not a single guard in sight.

A low rustle behind me makes me crane my neck. A shadow approaches and looms over me. The familiar cold eyes. The beard. The guard’s uniform. A sniper’s rifle in his hands.

I swallow in shocked surprise, recognizing the face that hovers over me.

“Ali Baba,” I murmur. I’m dizzy. My vision is blurred. The pain seems to have taken over my entire body. “Where is Maddy?”

“Don’t know.”

He drops to his haunches, pushes me to the side, and in a moment, my hands are loose from the restraints.

“She’s safe though,” he says. “But we have to move. Butcher’s men are around the corner.”

With practiced swiftness, he unties the chain around my neck, but the freedom doesn’t give me the strength to get up. Everything swims before my eyes.

There are shouts in the distance, but from the enemy’s side. Shots come from the depths of the jungle.

Ali lifts a sniper rifle and points it in the direction of the voices.

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