Page 17 of Frankie and the Fed

I open my eyes in horror. Michael is standing at the foot of the bed. He lifts Ethan’s lifeless body off me and throws him to the floor.

Ethan? Ethan! He’s here. I try to sit up and find that my hands are free. He’s uncuffed me.

But why is Ethan on the floor? What’s happening here?

Blinking again, I take in the holes in his shirt and all the blood.

No. Please no. This can’t be real. It must just be part of the nightmare I’m in. I’m here to save him. He’s not supposed to be here to save me.

Michael now stands with his back to me, unaware that I have woken up. He points the gun at Ethan, planning to finish the job.

“No!” I scream like a wounded animal, and with powers I didn’t know existed in me, I leap on Michael’s back. We fall to the floor and a gunshot echoes in my ears.

* * *

Michael lies under me. He isn’t moving. He isn’t struggling. I stay still for a moment longer, sprawled over him, trying to calm my rapid breathing. But Ethan is here.

I get up slowly. My legs can barely carry me as they’re shaking so hard. I look at myself and touch my body. I’m alive. No gun holes that I can detect. I send a foot to Michael’s side, nudging him with the tips of my toes. He doesn’t move.

I try again, harder, but he’s still lying motionless. I have to check to be sure.

I bite my bottom lip, bend down and push on his shoulder, turning him over. When he rolls onto his back, I jump in panic, stifle a whimper and cover my mouth with my hands.

A bullet hole has opened in his neck, and blood is gushing out with a horrifying sound. I kneel and vomit the contents of my almost empty stomach onto the floor.

As the waves of nausea subside, I turn to Ethan, sprawled on the floor next to me. I call his name, but he doesn’t respond.

A large pool of blood has accumulated beneath him. There is a gunshot wound in his stomach, and a knife is stuck in his shoulder. I remember seeing on TV that you should not take out the knife alone. But the blood is everywhere. I have to help him.

I try to stop the blood from the wound in his stomach with my palms. It’s like trying to stop a river with a small stone.

“God, Ethan, don’t leave me! I’m not letting you go from me!” I scream, no longer aware of my surroundings. I’m not sure if I’m still in a dream or if this is reality. Everything I went through, all this hell, it was all for him.

No, you won’t take him from me now, I scream inside.It’s not fair. I’m not ready! I sob as I rest my palms on him, trying to put pressure on the wound.

Strong arms surround me and pull me away from Ethan. “No!” I scream. “I need to help him!” I’m kicking, raging, trying to free myself from the unfamiliar people who have suddenly appeared and are trying to keep me from him.

“We’ll take care of him,” I hear an unfamiliar voice say.

“What are you doing to me? Leave me alone!” I scream. I struggle against them with all my wretched strength without success.

The sensation of a needle’s prick surprises me. I try to reach out to the new pain point in my arm, but the hands holding me don’t allow me to move.

My thoughts blur and spin, and I sink again into oblivion, but this time the nightmares are also in the dark.

CHAPTER9

Ayala

BEEP.

Beep.

Beep.

A monotonous beeping is constant in the background, a loud, obnoxious sound. I open my eyes a bit, and a bright white light fills my sight. It’s so painful that I cringe in pain.

Where is the light switch? I want to turn off this awful light. I try to search for it, but my hands are heavy, so heavy.