Shards

chapter 29

Chapter 29:

Clutching the walkie-talkie frantically in my hand, I yelled into the receiver. “Whole group of guards, heading right for you! They're coming down the stairs.

“There's a window in the stairwell.” Julian whispered. “Should I take the shot, help them out a bit?”

“Yes!” My voice was a little too forceful. “Do it!”

“But Jayls...”

I didn't care what he had to say. “Take the god damn shot.”

My voice was low and dangerous. I just couldn't stand the thought of them in danger. They couldn't die, not before I could remember how they'd lived. Julian did as I'd told him, and through the window, I watched bodies fall. It was only when everyone had disappeared from the stairwell, did I realize what we'd done.

With only a twitch of his finger, Julian had taken away lives. Who was I to make that decision for him. Sure he'd done it without protesting, but I hadn't even let him speak. What scared me the most however, was that I didn't know who had spoken. Had it been me, the me I knew, or had it been pieces of my old self, finding their way to the surface. I suspected the second and—just like in the hospital—it scared me. I feared the part of myself I could not remember, and again I began to dread the return of my memories.

Much to my relief, I watched as Ian entered the stairwell. Behind him, the rest of our friends filed in. Julian heaved an audible sigh of relief, and I turned to look at him for the first time since he'd taken the shot.

“You really haven't changed, have you?” His voice was low, in no way coloured with laughter.

I bit my lip. “I don't know.”

I was at a loss for what to say. Maybe this was the time to ask Julian to confirm my fears about the old me, but at that moment he went back to looking through his scope. That reminded me, I couldn't be thinking about myself at a time like this. Through the binoculars, I could barely make out the heat signatures of our friends, as the hallway they were in was no longer on the outside of the building. Between them and us, were the small rooms that I had determined to be cells.

“There won't be that many guards in a psy-ops facility like this,” Julian said. So he wasn't mad at me; that was a relief. “They should have a fairly easy time of it if none of the patients are brainwashed enough to join the guards in the fight.”

I smiled. “Doesn't look like it.”

There were a few bodies lying on the floor, but four were still on their feet, and they didn't appear to be fighting. Suddenly, they were running down the hall. Then, there was an eruption of blinding red light.

“Nice one.” Julian whistled.

He must have seen the explosion through the window. It probably hadn't been necessary, considering that cells had keys, but as I'd learned, my friends quite enjoyed explosives. We weren't really needed, as they continued to free the prisoners, either through explosions, or some other way, which probably involved the before mentioned keys.

“Shit.” Julian swore, grabbing my attention away from the happenings in the building.

“What is...” I didn't even need to finish the question.

I saw the guards, entering the door at the bottom of our building. Frantically, I began to search the roof for an escape route. My broken leg meant that it couldn't involve jumping or climbing. This time, Julian needed no prompting, and he began to fire downwards at the group entering the building. He hit two of them before they began to fire back. I flattened myself flat against the gravel. It dug into my stomach, but the guards had no angle. Crawling my way to the edge of the roof, I peeked over the barrier, pulling my pistol from my waistband and firing a couple of shots down at the group.