Page 51 of Victorious: Part 3

But the seconds are running dry.

Somewhere deep within the walls, the ticking continues. Silent and unforgiving, just like a countdown to the end of everything.

The ceiling groans. A guttural sound of strained steel and cracking concrete trembles through the chamber. It is almost as if the building itself is mourning what’s coming. A thunderous crack rips through the chamber, and concrete shears away in jagged chunks. A steel support beam, thick and rusted, plummets like a guillotine, falling directly in the middle of the fucking corridor. We all duck as it swings and then slams onto Hurricane with a sickening crunch.

The impact echoes louder than the blast.

Louder than the screams.

Louder than the blood rushing in my ears.

“Pres!” I rush through the churning water, half swimming, half stumbling, and grab the beam, muscles screaming as I attempt to lift it off him. “Fuck.Fuck!”My boots slip against the slick, wet concrete. My arms quake, my hands slick with water and blood and panic.

But the beam won’t budge.

Hurricane’s face twists in pain, but he doesn’t cry out. His jaw clenches so hard I swear I hear his teeth grind. One hand clutches his side where blood pulses through his fingers. The other tries weakly to push me away.

“City… there’s… no time,” he growls through gritted teeth. “L-listen to me—”

“I’m not leaving you, you fucking cunt.”

“You d-don’t have a choice!” His voice cracks, raw and fierce. “There’s a fuckin’ b-bomb. It’s still t-tickin’.”

I shake my head, vision blurring, understanding flowing through me why he stayed back and wouldn’t come further. He was always going to give us the time we needed to get out.

Fucking asshole!

“We can get you out, we just—”

“You’ve got fuckin’ seconds, City…” His breathing grows shallow. “She was rigged. The bird. She had a vest… when I killed her, the timer started… I’d say you guys have ’bout sixty seconds… maybe less now. I need you togo!”

The world tilts.

Every instinct inside me screams to fight harder.

To lift.

To pull.

To fix it.

But the water is rising, the women are still climbing, and the man who taught me how to lead is dying right in front of my eyes.

He looks toward the ladder, the women, and our brothers, all escaping.

This was the mission.

And with his bloodied hand, he reaches for mine.

“Go, brother. Take care of ’em. Take care of Kaia. Take care of my k-kids…” His voice falters, his eyes misting as he sniffs back his emotion. “Even if I didn’t meet ’em yet… they made me whole.”

“Pres—”

Hoodoo appears beside me, panting as he takes in the scene, dragging his fingers through his hair. “Fuck, Pres.”

“Hoodoo, we don’t have time… you gotta get City outta h-here… this place is rigged to go up,” Hurricane orders, and I grit my teeth, leaning down, putting all my force back into lifting this fucking beam off him.

I let out an animalistic growl as Hoodoo wraps his arms around my body and drags me back. My boots scrape against the flooded floor as I fight him, raw grief clawing at my throat like it wants out.