Page 80 of The Celtic Resolution
I have to go down as deep as I can and hope I remember the spiral way to where he was being kept the last time. Assuming they haven’t moved him.
With the handgun clutched in one hand, I descend the stairs while repeatedly swallowing to combat the rush of nausea and burning heat coursing through my abdomen. Down and down I step until I’ve lost count of how many stairs I’ve passed or what floor I could even be on. I have no choice but to keep going.
The spiral stone staircase eventually gives way to a corridor and the door at the far end brings me deeper into dark, damp corridors with a familiar mildew scent. As I creep alongone corridor, a guard strolls nonchalantly toward me with his attention down on the cigarette he’s rolling between two fingers. Whistling a soft tune, he doesn’t spot me until I click the safety back on my gun and the sound echoes in the compact space.
He lifts his head and promptly collapses to the ground as I shoot him twice in the chest. His body crumples against the wall and blood pools around him slowly.
Then another wave of pain courses through my body but this time the burning heat shoots right between my legs and down the back of my thighs.
“Ah!” Stumbling against the wall for support, another wave of hot sweat breaks out across my back, and my chest tightens as a growing realization painfully dawns on me.
These… these can’t be contractions, can they? There’s no way. It’s too early. It’s far, far too early!
Shit. Maybe I should have run. I should have just run and brought help for Cian instead of limping down here myself. It’s too late to turn back though. Giving my pain a name results in more frequent lancings of agony through my abdomen and down my thighs. It’s as if recognizing what’s happening has given my body to go full send with the pain and I’m struggling.
Thankfully, the corridor grows more familiar and soon the winding hallway gives way to several doors that resemble the one I saw Cian behind. I check each one through the glass and see several women in various states of unconsciousness, and multiple men, but none of them are Cian.
Leaving the strangers behind hurts but I can’t save everyone.
By the time I reach the last cell, tears are pouring freely down my cheeks and I’m drenched in sweat. My clothes cling to me like a second skin and I’m burning so hot it’s a wonder the door handle doesn’t sizzle the moment I touch it.
Cian! Through the last door, I see him. My twin. He’s seemingly unconscious on a thin mattress with several dirtybandages covering his mostly naked body. The one around his throat looks the cleanest and at least his butchered leg appears to have received some kind of treatment.
“Cian!” Slamming my hand on the door, I knock repeatedly. “Cian! Cian, wake up! Please wake up!”
No response.
“Shit, shit!” I glance quickly around me, but just as I realize there’s no sign of any keys, the hallway door next to me swings open and a guard strolls through. We both react at the same time. He flinches in shock at seeing me while I lift my gun and shoot him in the leg. He collapses with a scream, then lunges at me, but I’m quick enough to stumble out of his reach.
“How do I open the cell?”
“Fucking bitch?—”
“Tell me how to open it!”
“Cunt, I’m going to kill you—argh!”
The second bullet goes through his forearm as he reaches for me and his screams of pain are the best thing I’ve ever heard. He rolls onto his side, cradling his arm and whimpering up at me through tears.
“I won’t ask again.” I stand over him, panting and sweating while cradling my abdomen and my gun pointed right at his face. “How!”
“With—ahh, with a key!”
“What key?”
“My pocket—right pocket!”
As soon as I have my answer, I shoot him dead and the hallway falls silent once more. Dropping down to my knees, the scent of blood and gore rising from his body is enough to make me gag while I scramble through his pockets in search of the key. My fingers clasp the cold iron just as another contraction rips through me and this one is so painful that I can’t keep quiet.
I yell loudly as tears pour down my cheeks, mingling with the sweat. It feels like I’m being boiled from the inside out while simultaneously being ripped in half at my middle.
“Shit!” Once the initial wave passes I use the wall to climb back onto unsteady legs. “Fucking… shit.” Back at Cian’s door, it’s a battle to get the key into the lock but finally, it slides in and a satisfying click echoes in the hall. Wrenching the door open, I stumble inside.
“Cian!”
“S–Saoirse?” Cian, looking groggy as all hell, slowly pushes up on one badly bruised arm. “Am I… dead?”
“No!” I gasp, crashing back to my knees and barely registering the pain of the stone floor. Throwing my arms around Cian, I hug him tightly as tears pour and a mix of grief and relief cracks through my chest. “Oh, my God,” I sob desperately. “Oh, my God, I never thought I’d see you again! Oh, fuck!” Kissing his cheek, I hug him as tightly as I can and tears overwhelm me when Cian’s trembling arm wraps around me.
