Freed

Twenty-One

Everything's happening too fast for me to comprehend anything at this moment. All I can feel is Harry breathing down my neck, his front sheltering my back.

"Get me out of here!" Father yells to someone, as a chair falls backwards.

"Mus, get underneath the table. Now!" Harry orders, his voice filled with a sense of urgency. I oblige, getting down on all fours and crawling underneath the wooden piece of furniture that is nowhere near a shield. My husband is quick to follow behind me, his body still protecting mine.

"What's going on?" I ask, confused. My heart is hammering against my chest, and all I can think of is that I don't want to die today.

"If only I knew," Harry whispers, his eyes scanning the room. There are no guards present. Both of our fathers are missing and our mothers are cowering in a far corner of the room. The most upsetting fact is that I don't even feel bad for them, even for a second. Hell, I'm not even considering their safety. The only two people I'm concerned with are Harry and myself.

"Harry, we've gotta get out of this room." I say, staring at the door. "Now!" Grabbing hold of Harry's hand, I drag him out from underneath the table, and bolt for the door. Luckily, we make it out without getting hit. Although, the source of the bullets is still unknown.

"Your car must be outside, right?" I ask, pulling him towards the staircase.

"Yeah, but going out will be the height of stupidity." Harry says, allowing himself to be lead by me.

"I know a back route to the garage. Just have faith in me, and follow," I say. Harry's grip tightens around my hand, as we near the second floor landing. I rewind the memory chip in my brain to when I was 10, and needed a place to hide. There was a painting beside an air duct, near my room door that housed a door behind it. Which side of my room, though?

I come to a halt, and squeeze my eyes shut. Think, Mus, think.

That day I exited my room, and...left was a side that I hated, so I ran right. Yeah!

"Come on, towards my room." I bark out, breaking into a run once more.

"I swear to God, if you get me killed Mus, I will come for you. As a ghost," Harry says, his breath coming out in pants. Smiling, I shake my head.

"Rest assured, we will make it out. Whether that's in two pieces, or one, I'm unsure of." I shrug my shoulders, turning around to see a fear-stricken Harry. Laughing, I am swarmed with guilt. "I'm joking, breathe."

We reach my room door, and make a right, my eyes scanning the walls for that painting. The minute I spot it, I rush over and yank it off its hooks. Sure enough, the white wooden door is behind it. Breathing in a breath of relief, I push it inwards, and step into the damp tunnel. Turning around, I gesture for Harry to follow.

"A-Are you sure about this?" Harry asks, staring at the darkness unsurely.

"Have faith in me. Please," I say, smiling. "And if we die, we'll be together. Also, it'll be a feast for the rats, so why not?" Cracking a ghost of a smile, Harry steps in as well, and I push the door shut.

"Take out your phone," I say. "We'll need the flashlight."

"What'd you use when you used to come in here before?" Harry asks, as he shines a bright beam into the hollow tunnel.

"It was the dark that I desired, and that's what I got." I reply, beginning to head straight. "I used to come here when I wanted to completely hide myself, and imagine that I didn't even exist, because that's how filthy I felt."

Harry wraps his hand around mine, and squeezes it.

"You're one insanely brave person, Mus." He says, smiling. "Thank you for saving us today."

"Save your thanks, I might be leading us into a death trap." I say, grinning.

"Well, whatever the case, I'll die happy as long as it's with you." Harry nods his head against mine. "Honestly though, without you, I would've stood frozen in that dining hall."

"Give yourself some credit. After all, you are the one who thought quick enough to protect me." We near the end of the tunnel. The wall at this end looks to be made of complete concrete. However, it has a camouflaged door pressed into it. I push against the center, and light floods the tunnel.

"Hallelujah," I murmur. Sure enough, we are facing the garage, where several of Father's cars are parked, and Harry's. We zoom towards his car, and get in - Harry situating himself behind the wheel.

"So what, we just burst out of the steel door?" Harry questions, revving the engine.

"There's a button next to it that will open the door. It'll be on your side," I explain. "Have you got any good music filled USB?" I ask, opening the front compartment.

"Are you kidding me?" Harry lets out a low chuckle. "We're in the middle of a shootout and you're thinking of a good playlist."

"Yeah, well, I rather die hearing a good beat than nothing at all." I shrug my shoulders, taking out a CD. "Geez, Harry, which era do you live in? Dean's car is piled high with USBs."

"Unlike him, I don't have a heck load of time to waste on downloading songs onto USBs. I am the future king, after all." Harry smirks, as he puts the car in drive.

"There's always time for a good song," I argue. Harry pushes the button, the garage door opening upwards.

"You ready?" I ask, staring straight ahead.

"Yeah," Harry replies. His free hand takes hold of my left hand, and just like that, my fear vanishes. The minute there's enough space to pull out, Harry does. The car purrs through the driveway and towards the gates.

I can still hear the sound of gunshots, but the source is not from here. It's coming from the back-end of the house. All I'd like to know is who the hell are these people, and how'd they get in?

The palace gates are wide open. Harry offers me a brief glance of puzzlement.

"I don't know," I murmur. "Floor it, Harry!" I yell, as I catch a glimpse of two gunmen in the rear-view mirror. They head through the front door and into Father's house, completely ignoring us.

Nevertheless, Harry increases the car's speed. Safely, we exit the palace, and continue to drive.

"Where are we headed?" I ask after a while.

"Airport?" Harry says it as more of a question. I nod.

"Yeah, we've got to get back home." Harry smiles, his eyes lighting up with life. "What?"

"You said home," Harry explains. "It sounds nice." I grin, leaning over and pecking his cheek.

"I love you," I whisper in his ear, gently biting on the lobe. Moving back, I lower my seat and shut my eyes. A few minutes later, the music comes to an end. I open one eye to find Harry playing with the stereo. Sighing, I pull my legs up and curl up.

"Yes, thank you, Natalie. We have just received news regarding the attack on the Royal family. Sources are reporting that the Queen of England has passed away." My eyes fly open and I sit up.

Harry hits the brakes, jerking me forwards. He slams the heels of his hands against the steering wheel, letting out an agonized scream.