Unhinged [Rafe Cameron]

[the shot]

(tw: guns, violence, and blood.)

My blood is pumping, and my skin is itching from the straight adrenaline that's shooting through my veins. At this point, call me an adrenaline junkie, because I never want to stop feeling like this.

The ground rumbles underneath us as we make our way in the van to the runway, where Ward's plane and all our gold is located. Excitement crackles within our group like electricity as John B thrums his fingers on the steering wheel and Pope chews the shit out of his nails (classic Pope).

JJ clicks a few bullets into the magazine of the gun and inspects it closely to make sure they're in correctly.

"So we go in there, guns a-blazin'," he waves the gun around, "make Ward Cameron beg for mercy, abscond with as much gold as possible and vámanos, get the hell out of there."

"Send that shit right down the Intercostal." John B adds, a newfound determination in his voice.

"Wait for the weather," Kie joins in.

"And exit to Cuba." Pope finishes, a smirk toying on his lips.

A smile fights to break loose on my face. The dynamic of our group has finally returned to normal (or at least as normal it can get under these conditions). I was starting to miss our group bond. These past few days have been stressful, and we've all been put under immense pressure.

I'm just glad that we're sticking together through it all.

"No, man, Xcalak, Jewel of the Yucatan." JJ rejects. "Lobsters so thick, mangoes, and no word for money."

I scoff sarcastically. "Their mangoes aren't even that good."

"Shut up!" JJ leers, shoving me playfully. "You're ruining the vision."

A laugh bubbles out from my throat.

It's nice to savor the few moments that we have before shit absolutely hits the fan.

After another few minutes the van putters to a stop in front of a NO TRESPASSING sign and I know we've arrived at the landing strip.

We all jump out of the car and scurry to the tall fence that lines the outside. Through the fence I can see a clear vision of the plane that Ward has all our gold on. I watch as a car pulls up to the plane, and Ward climbs out of it.

John B pulls out a pair of binoculars, trying to get a better look at what's happening.

But then his face falls.

"What is it?" Pope asks.

He lowers the binoculars.

"It's Sarah."

Shit.

She's with him?

This just made things a whole lot more complicated.

A cry sounds from in front of us, and I can feel that something has gone wrong.

"Oh my god, he's hurting her." John B says, passing the binoculars to me.

I raise them and squint through them, spotting Ward. His arms are around Sarah and he seems to be trying to force her into the plane. She's flailing around and trying to fight back, but he won't let up.

We have to do something.

Clearly, John B is thinking the same thing because he stalks back to the van and starts its engine. We watch as he revs up and starts driving headfirst into the gate.

We scramble aside as the van crashes through the gate door with a loud crash, knocking it off its hinges and leaving behind a disarrayed mess of steel and wires.