Page 117 of Orion Ruined

Amid all the commotion, Logan points his gun at someone standing on the far side of the restaurant entrance. “Is that Milan?”

“Kill everything and anything!” I shout, aiming my rifle at the figure. “Especially him!”

“Maisy!” Kai’s voice reaches me just as I’m about to pull the trigger.

I stop, but nobody else does. I turn to see Maisy, holding a gun, firing as she advances on Milan, barely dodging the bullets raining on her.

“Maisy!” Logan yells when he sees her, but it’s pointless. She can’t hear him.

Milan doesn’t have a gun, but the five goons standing around him do, and they shoot like cowboys. I aim at them, killing one, then another.

Among another shower of bullets, Kai drops to the ground next to me like a sack of potatoes. This was what I was afraid of.

“Kai!” I grab hold of him but his eyes tell me everything. There’s no fight in there and he can barely keep them open. He’s been shot in the shoulder again–there are multiple shots, some close to his heart. “Hey! Kai, open your eyes, you hear me? You asshole!”

“Maisy…” He points behind me. I look back and see mayhem. Logan’s being mown down too.

“Delgados, get him!” I yell at Kai’s family. They run to grab him and get him away as I go to Logan.

“I’m fine, I’m hit in the leg. My knee… nothing serious. Go, get our girl.” Logan is the sane one in this world of blood and fury, although the blood coming out of his mouth is not a good sign.

I’ll deal with Logan later.

I stand up and see her: fearless, proud, furious, still firing shots at Milan. That’s our fucking girl!

“Maisy!” I yell, and she hears me this time.

She turns to me, and that’s when my nightmare in slow motion starts. Her body jerks as a bullet hits her, once, twice, three, four times, all on her torso. Her pink dress slowly becomes red. Her eyes are still on me, shocked, surprised, and finally, sightless, as she falls into her own darkness and drops to the ground.

“MAISY!” Logan shrieks.

I try to run to her but my legs give up, my left at first, and as if in a movie, I see myself walking with a limp, and then the right leg fully gives out. I drag myself with my arms over dead bodies, under a spray of bullets and smoke, but something hot pushes on my shoulder and now my left arm gives in. Logan’s voice is in my ear, he’s yelling something. I’m sorry, Logan, not now. I was horrible to Maisy. I was mean. I want to apologize to her. To tell her I’m sorry. To tell her I love her.

I reach her limp body, riddled with so many bullets, and my heart breaks in so many pieces, leaving me feeling nothing but despair. Who hated this girl so much that they had to put so many bullets in her? I wrap my only working arm around her and give in. I cry. With no fear, no shame, no embarrassment. I don’t care who sees me. I loved her. And she loved us. My Maisy. Our Maisy.

A black boot kicks me and only then do I become aware of the pain tearing through my body. It’s utterly debilitating.

I look up to see what appears to be a shadow pointing a gun at me. I have no strength to do anything and I don’t intend to, but when they pull Maisy’s body from my arms, I fight. I fight with all my strength, until that boot is the last thing I see and a shooting pain in my head is the last thing I feel.

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