Lost Will of the Dead [Book One] (On Hold)

VII : Quentin

Quentin sprang on his feet as the pounding on the door became suspiciously like someone was trying to bring it down. He yanked the dazed Marius off his feet--riveted on the floor with shock. With his other hand, he picked up the blanket he threw away earlier and bolted to the kitchen.

The door of the apartment came crashing down with a thundering boom as clouds of dust hovered undisturbed. Series of bangs rang and echoed throughout the four corners of the room as the place turned into a sea of bullets.

Bullets flooded the apartment: puncturing holes through the side table; slicing and dicing the bed mattress, its contents spilling out as it flipped sideways ravaged by the force of the raging bullets; the vases blown off into smithereens, the nightlamp sliced into pieces, and the pillows were strewn about; bullets pelted the beige curtains as the windows behind it were cracked and shattered.

"Aya yay. This is not good monsieur Quentin. What should we do?" Marius joked above the drowning bangs of bullets.

Annoyed, he gritted his teeth and ignored the joke. He peeked behind the fridge they took refuge in and saw that their assailants hadn't taken more than a few steps into the apartment. Only the guns came into view--and they all seemed to be hunting rifles.

They want to make sure we're dead first. So thorough.

The realization urged him to quicken and find a way to escape the inferno of bullets--before their assailants would end their killing spree.

Quentin thought about their limited options.

Most likely the sentinels secured any exit through the doors--many of them might be waiting right outside. Marius and him would be killed in an instant.

He glanced at the shattered windows and the shafts of light penetrating through the torn curtains. If they were hoping for any form of escape, the windows would be the best choice.

They could wrap themselves around the blanket he managed to grab, and take a leap of faith. The blanket could shield them from the jagged shards of glass and quite possibly, their fall as well.

It could work.

"Marius, j'ai besoin de ton aide," He said. He whirled around to see Marius intently observing him.

"Bien sûr, Quentin. What is it?" Marius asked.

"We need to jump through the window wrapped in the blanket. Any idea how we can get there?"

"Leave that to Marius le grand!" His friend exclaimed with an elegant twist of his hand in the air.

Before Quentin could throw him a criticizing snappy retort, Marius dashed towards a nearby cupboard with a smirk. Sometimes, he just couldn't understand how his friend could mentain a light and friendly aura despite how edgy a situation could go.

The bangs of bullets ceased as the sense of alarm swelled inside him. Series of stomping boots reverberated throughout the room as camouflaged uniformed sentinels came strutting in. He backed away and out of view in a flash as the soldiers began filling in the place.

"Marius, we need to hurry. They're coming in," he said in a hushed voice.

His gray eyes went wide as Marius turned to face him gripping two 9mm G18 in both hands. His friend's face instantly went from light and friendly to deadly calm and serious as he held the weapon.