Page 84 of Through the Fire
Elena’s index finger whitened as she curled it around the trigger, and Kit braced herself for the shot.
“Alex!” Mr. Espina’s voice cracked through the room, making Elena’s head snap toward him. “Don’t do this. It ripped me apart when I thought you’d been killed. We have a second chance to be a family. I want my sister back. Please, Alex. I love you.”
Elena stared at him for so long that Kit started to hope that her brother had gotten through to her. Maybe this horrible day wouldn’t end with another needless death.
“Your sister did die that day,” Alex said.
Turning the gun toward her brother, she pulled the trigger.
Everyone went still, the room deadly silent. Elena stared at her bleeding brother, her expression as shocked as if her hands hadn’t held the gun. “Mateo,” she breathed, sounding small and scared as she stared at him, slumped in his chair, only the duct-tape bonds keeping him from falling to the floor.
Dragging her gaze from Mr. Espina’s unconscious form, Kit lunged for Elena, hoping to take advantage of her distraction. Before Kit could reach her, though, Elena snapped out of her daze and raised the gun again, just inches from Kit’s chest.
“Cut your losses,” Kit said, trying to keep her voice calm and reasonable even though she wanted to scream. “Your brother is dead. More cops are coming. You aren’t going to accomplish anything today. Save yourself. You’ve worked so hard on this. Why would you throw it all away now? You’re out of time. Even if you manage to shoot a couple of us, you won’t escape unless you leave right now. What good is your plan if you spend the rest of your life in prison?”
When Elena sent another hunted glance toward the window, Kit knew she had her. All she had to do was make sure that no one died before Elena took off.
“Fine,” Elena said, refocusing on Kit. “But you’re coming with me.” Moving behind her, Elena held the gun to Kit’s upper spine and shoved her toward the archway. “If you do anything, I’m going to blow a hole in you. Even if you survive it, you’ll never walk again. Remember that.”
“W-wait!” Sam cried out as he stepped in front of them. Until that point, Kit had managed to contain her fear enough to function, but the sight of Sam putting himself in the line of fire sent utter terror running through her.
“Sam, no!” she cried, and he gave her a frightened but resolute look before refocusing on Elena.
“T-t-take m-m-me, inst-t-tead,” he said, and Kit tensed, ready to do whatever she had to do to keep that from happening. Kit knew that whoever left as Elena’s hostage was most likely not coming back. She was willing to take that risk with her own life, but not with Sam’s. Not Sam.
Before Elena could respond, Kit blurted out, “Take me. You don’t want to kill a kid.”
“Don’t tell me what to do,” Elena growled, and Kit hid a wince at her blundering misstep. Despite her fear for Sam, she needed to be smart.
“If you take him, I’ll chase you down.” The gun barrel jammed harder into her back, but Kit ignored the pain and the way that her head injuries and adrenaline were making the room spin. She couldn’t mess this up. Sam’s life was at stake. “Think of how much you hate me. I ruined all your plans. How good will it feel to use me as your hostage and then kill me? It’s got to be better than feeling guilty for shooting an innocent kid.”
For a frozen moment, Kit thought she’d failed.
“Walk,” Elena said, shoving the gun into Kit’s spine again. The pain was almost a relief. She wasn’t taking Sam as a hostage. He was safe. Kit’s knees grew watery, threatening to dump her on the ground, but she forced herself to stay upright and walk toward the door.
As they passed, Sam gave her a tormented look. “K-K-Kit…”
She tried to smile at him, even as her mind worked. She needed to survive—for herself and for Wes and for Justice and for Sam. Whatever it took, she’d fight tooth and nail for her life.
With her hold on Kit’s arm and the gun in her back, Elena pushed Kit down the hallway and through the kitchen at a jog. She didn’t hesitate when they burst outside, steering them across the backyard and into the woods. Elena pressed her into a run, speeding up until all Kit could concentrate on was placing her feet so she didn’t trip. Her relief at getting Elena and her gun away from everyone was mixed with terror. If Elena’s plan was successful, Kit was going to die. Her only hope was to get away.
Thinking of an escape was almost impossible, though, with branches whipping her across the face and rocks wanting to trip her and send her sprawling onto the snowy ground. Her eyes were fixed on the game trail in front of them, hunting out roots and holes that threatened to trip her and possibly get her shot on the way down.
Even in their mad dash through the trees, she recognized the deer trail they were following. She and Justice had covered this ground before, and she knew they were headed toward the burned house. This was Murphy’s territory.
Murphy’s trapping territory.
Her gaze snapped back to the ground, this time with more intent. She looked for unnatural bunches of leaves or man-made markings, showing where he’d hidden one of his traps. It was a long shot, she knew, but it was better than no plan at all.
“Where are you going?” she gasped, wanting to keep Elena distracted. “Do you even have a plan?”
“Of course.” It was a small comfort that Elena sounded just as winded as Kit was. “I always have a plan and a way out of town.”
Way out of town. As her gaze continued searching the ground, she turned over Elena’s words in her head. There was no public transportation in Monroe, so the only way out would be by car—or helicopter. Since there was no metal bird hovering over them, she assumed that Elena had a car waiting—or maybe a driver? An accomplice?
As they got closer to the burned house, Kit racked her brain. She’d done the canvass, for goodness’ sake. Of anyone, she should know if there were any suspicious vehicles in the area, especially with so few people around. Mrs. Jones had been one of a sparse handful of people still in the area, and she would’ve immediately noticed a strange car parked in the neighborhood.
Mrs. Jones. She’d been missing her keys. “Planning on stealing the old Lincoln?” she puffed.
