All hell breaks loose the second we all realize that God had not, in fact, struck those two goons down. The bullet holes in their chests kind of contradict that.
Though seeing as how there's no shooter around that I can identify, I'm still going with divine intervention.
More people start dropping around me, but I can't hear the shots from a gun. I don't even hear the quiet telltale pop of a silencer.
Sniper. My mind tells me. I can't hear the gunshots, which means whoever's shooting is a good distance away.
Well, a lot of good that does me right now. I'm tied to a table. Where am I going? Nowhere. That's where.
The table I'm on is suddenly flipped on its side and I let out a scream, still strapped the table only now I'm hanging painfully sideways.
"For the love of-stop screaming."
I freeze as I take in the stranger in front of me. Dark hair cut short, big brown eyes, leather jacket over a white shirt, faded jeans, scuffed up sneakers, flawless ebony skin, and a gun in his hands.
He places the gun on the floor next to him and pulls a knife from his pocket, flicking it open in one fast motion.
I suck in a breath and my eyes widen, and I'm on the verge of screaming again. He seems to notice this because he quickly claps a hand over my mouth.
"Quiet," He hisses as he begins to cut at the ropes on my wrists. "I'm not here to hurt you."
I rub at my wrists once they're free and he cuts away the ropes on my ankles.
"Who are you?" I question once I'm free. My muscles tense as I ready to run.
He narrows his eyes at me, seeming to notice my flight instinct is kicking in. "Damien," He says. "Agent Damien North."
My eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "You're the one who kidnapped me?" I nearly shriek.
He claps a hand over my mouth but we've been heard and bullets begin to spray up the table we're ducked behind.
He curses. "Should've taken them all out," He mutters as he grabs my wrist and drags me behind him as he begins to run quickly through the factory.
I dig my heels in, stopping us from making any real progress. "I'm not going anywhere with you until you show me some ID."
He gives me an incredulous look and pulls me behind one of the big machines as bullets spark off it.
"Are you serious?"
I narrow my eyes at him. "How do I know you're not just another one of them?" I jerk my thumb back to guys shooting at us.
It may seem an odd thing for me to ask this, but this has actually happened to me before. I was "saved" before in the hopes that I would trust my savior and reveal things to him. When I hadn't things had gotten ugly. Plus, I knew exactly what to look for to tell whether or not an ID was fake.
"I wouldn't be getting shot at if I was," He says.
I don't budge. "They're getting closer," I tell him.
He swears before fumbling through his pockets and pulling out his badge and ID. He shows them to me. "Satisfied?" I nod. "Then can we get the hell out of here?"
"I second that. Why are you two even still in here?" Ryder growls as he just appears out of nowhere right next to me, a rifle slug by a strap over his shoulder. I let out a yelp and jump away.
YOU ARE READING
I can't keep the smile off my face as I take my seat on the plane. I slide my bag under the seat and lean back. I close my eyes and let a blissful smile grace my face. He said I wouldn't be able to run. As if. I'm vaguely aware of someone taking the...