“What the—”
“Turn around!” Ned screamed, cutting Hunter off. “Back up! Now!”
Hunter gunned the car but before he could reverse, the gunman, who had continued walking calmly toward us, pulled open Hunter’s door. Hunter tried to close it, but the man reached in, stunned Hunter with his gun, snapped off his seat belt, and began dragging him from the car.
“NO!” I unclipped my seat belt, and threw myself over the seat, trying to grab hold of Hunter. But I was too late. His body thudded to the ground, I saw his arms and legs flail. Then three gunshots rang out, bang, bang, bang.
“HUNTER!” His name ripped from me, I twisted to the window and my heart stopped. He was lying facedown, blood pooling from his head.
“NO!” I screamed again. The gunman’s head jerked up. He looked straight at me and then, moving around Hunter’s body, he began walking toward my door. Suddenly, the car jerked forward, throwing me into the footwell. Ned had managed to get into the driver’s seat. But the car had stalled.
Ned gunned the car again, and as it shot forward, the gunman lunged for my door. But he was too late.
I climbed back onto the seat, looked out of the back window. Blood was seeping from Hunter’s body, a red pool on the black tarmac of the road.
“Stop!” I cried. “We need to call an ambulance!”
“Are you crazy?” Ned snarled.
“We can’t just leave him!”
Ned’s eyes flicked to the rearview mirror. “He’s dead.”
“No, no.” My teeth were chattering as I shook my head in denial. “We need to go back. The gunman’s gone, I saw him drive off.” I threw the top of my body over the seat, made a grab for the steering wheel. “Stop the car! We need to go back!”
Ned’s hand lashed out and I felt a crack of pain. My head snapped back, and I slid between the seats, so dizzy that I began retching. I closed my eyes. Hunter is dead, Hunter is dead, Hunter is dead.
I didn’t realize I was sobbing until Ned yelled at me to shut up. I jammed a fist into my mouth, scared to anger him further. He was already driving too fast; from where I lay on the floor, trees flashed past in a kaleidoscope of green.
The journey was interminable. My mind was all over the place. The gunman had been coming for me, I would have been shot like Hunter if Ned hadn’t driven off, and Ned would have been shot too. I wished we had been, it would have been a way out from this horror. I tried to focus on what I would do when I got to the house—as soon as Ned released the doors, I’d jump from the car, run toward the gates, if I couldn’t get through them before they closed, I’d scream for help. Someone would hear me, someone had to hear me.
At last, the car slowed; we had arrived at the house. Ned pulled to a stop at the front door. I pushed myself up from the floor and onto the seat, my hand on the door, my eyes fixed on the gates, which were already closing. I waited for the clunk of the doors unlocking as Ned got out of the car. But it didn’t come. I turned to look at him and saw him watching the gates, his face gray with fear. It was only when they juddered shut that he began to relax. He thought he was safe, behind his closed doors. But he wasn’t safe because I was seething with rage.
He got out of the car, slammed his door shut, and began to walk off. I tried to open my door but the latch clicked uselessly as I moved it back and forth. He was leaving me locked in the car.
“Let me out!” I yelled, thumping on the window. “Let me out!”
He continued walking toward the house, so I leaned over the seat, found the horn, and jammed my hand down on it. The noise was deafening. It brought him running back.
He pulled open my door and I leapt out, lunged at him.
“Get off!” he yelled, raising his arms to protect himself. “Get off me!”
But I didn’t stop, I kept on attacking him, hitting him with my fists, clawing at his face. He stumbled under the force of my anger, and I aimed a kick at him. He grabbed my leg.
“Let me go!” I yelled, hanging onto the door. “Help! Help!”
“Shut your mouth!” He had managed to stand. Blood oozed from his gouged cheeks and there was fury in his eyes as he yanked me away from the car, up the steps, and in through the front door. His strength was overwhelming; each time I managed to grab onto something, he wrenched me away.
“Let me go!” I yelled again.
I swung my arm and my fist connected with his face. He gave a howl of pain, grabbed my shoulders, and slammed me against the wall, pinning me there with his body. He was panting, cursing, squashing the breath from me. His hand came over my mouth, and he raised his other hand, pinching my nose with his fingers. I couldn’t breathe; my eyes bulged. I thought of Lina and my body went limp.