Chapter 11
(Pt 2)
Something warm and sticky met his fingers, and he pulled his hand away, forcing his eyes to open. The soft morning light flooded his vision, making him cringe, as the headache turned even more brutal. He blinked, waiting for the pain to subside, while his hand slowly came into focus, and he frowned in dismay, noting the red substance that colored his fingertips.
Blood?
Suddenly, a memory came flooding back. They were ambushed. There were three of them - Debray's men. He remembered seeing Robert inch toward the rifle that stood against the wall on the opposite side of the bed. He wanted to take the others' attention off of the old man, to give him a chance to grab the weapon. He jumped the closest one to him, knocking him down and pinning him to the ground under his weight. He remembered hearing some commotion behind him, and he remembered turning around and seeing Robert with the rifle in his hands readying to take aim. And then there was a shadow above him - a butt of a gun, and he remembered seeing it swoop down toward him. He remembered nothing else.
What happened?
He pushed himself gingerly off the ground, grabbing onto the bed for support, as the room swam before his eyes. As the vertigo subsided, he risked opening his eyes again, and his face darkened at the sight that opened to him. Two of Debray's men were dead, which was good. Unfortunately, so was the old man. Moreover, the third killer must still be out there somewhere. And Xandrie�. Christian�s eyes widened, as he took notice of a small black gun that lay a couple of feet away from him by the entrance. It was the same gun he saw Xandrie put behind her belt when they were at her place. His own pain forgotten, Christian pushed himself forward away from the bed and staggered as fast as he could toward the door, grabbing the gun on the way.
***
Xandrie decided to make her move when they reached the highway. Henri took his attention off her for a moment to signal a passing car, and Xandrie, seeing an opportunity, jabbed her elbow forcefully into his side, causing him to double over in pain, and took off running back into the woods. She ran as fast as she could, but it still wasn�t fast enough, and her brief moment of freedom turned out to be just that � a moment.
A bullet whizzed by her, splitting the bark of a nearby tree, and she glanced behind at her pursuer, frowning at the distance between them.
Close. Too close for comfort. If he missed from that distance, he meant to do so.
�Next one won�t miss,� he warned, panting heavily, and she stopped, knowing that he was right.
Holding on to his bruised side, Henri slowly moved toward her, shaking his head in annoyance. �You are beginning to get on my nerves, Alexandra,� he said, her name coming out in a hateful screech like the grating of fingernails on a blackboard. �I�m thinking maybe you�re not worth the trouble of bringing you back. I�ll just pop you right here and tell the Boss you were being difficult. He�ll understand.� He raised his gun again, pointing it squarely at her chest, and Xandrie closed her eyes, anticipating the shot.
The shot never came, though. Instead, a familiar voice broke into her consciousness, making her heart soar with a renewed sense of hope.
�PUT IT DOWN.�
She opened her eyes to see Christian standing only a few feet away, both hands squeezing the handle of her own gun, trying to steady its aim on Henri.
�Vell, vell, vell,� Henri spoke in broken English, his gun never moving from his original target. �Interesting turn of events. American chevalier to ze rescue, eh?�
�I said, put it down,� Christian repeated coldly, taking a small unsteady step toward him.
The other man lowered his weapon slightly, regarding him carefully for a moment, and then shook his head. �You dunt have it in you, American. You can�t kill.� And with that he raised his gun at Xandrie again, his finger wrapping tightly around the trigger, getting ready to fire.
And at that moment a shot rang out, a single shot, and Henri started, an expression of frozen disbelief on his face. His gun fell to the ground, as the man stumbled backwards, his hands clasping at the front of his shirt, where blood was beginning to pour through the torn fabric. His eyes met Christian�s for the briefest of seconds, widening slightly as if in shock, and he fell down in a heap without so much as a sound. It was over.
Christian watched that scene unfold with an ever-increasing sense of nausea. The realization that he had just killed a man, coated over him like a black suffocating fog. The gun was suddenly burning the flesh of his hands like a piece of red-hot coal, and he unclasped his fingers, letting it drop down on the ground. His head was spinning; his body, still weak from the loss of blood and now from the added exertion of running through the woods, was refusing to obey him, refusing to stay upright. He swayed dangerously, feeling his knees buckle under his weight, as his world suddenly went completely black. And Xandrie jumped forward just in time to catch him, as he fell limply into her waiting arms, sagging heavily against her.