Page 70 of Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea

I blink again to shake off the fuzz. Then I throw myself over to the gun and pick it up. I know how to shoot. One of the few beneficial lessons I learned growing up in the club. My head feels fuzzy again. It’s now or never.

“Gage,” I croak out again. “Move.”

And then the tiny room fills with deafening pops.Pop, pop. Pop, pop, pop. Then someone wrestles to get the gun from my hand. I fight to keep hold.

“No,” I’d scream if I had any voice left. For now it’s just me frantically mouthing the word.

“Liv, baby.” Gage. His voice comes softer. “Give me the gun. It’s over. This time it’s really over.”

I blink and my vision clears. The room now smells of organs, blood and death mixed with his dirt and char. Holes in his head and chest. I see his brains. Brains. It’s too much. I try to hold back the vomit enough to make it to the toilet but only get two steps before I erupt like a puke volcano all over the floor.

My whole body begins to shake violently. Shouts fill the space as bodies storm in.

I blink.

And then…

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