I heard Mark's order, but I couldn't move. Whether it was from fear or shock, I couldn't tell. I felt exhausted. It had been a long day, and I couldn't understand why anyone would want to break into our home, especially when it looked so derelict from the outside. The thought of Archer Donovan's assailant crossed my mind. Could they have seen me helping him and followed me home? Had they found and killed him and now wanted to eliminate any witnesses?
"Adele?!" Mark's voice penetrated my mind and jolted me back to reality. My eyes darted in their sockets, and my heart pounded unnaturally. "Can you hear me?!"
"Y-yes," I whispered.
"Get to the basement, and if they find you, give them hell!" Mark growled. I swallowed and nodded.
"Okay," I said.
"I'm coming, Adele... hold on for me," Mark said, his voice filled with desperation. It pulled at my heart. I clenched my jaw as I heard the door rattling.
"Hurry," I said.
"Don't cut the line," he warned.
I rose and hurried to the wide hallway on the left side of the open floor living room, heading towards the basement.
"Going somewhere, little one?" a voice said from the living room window. I darted a glance in that direction and saw a big, soaking-wet man. The door busted open, and another intruder strode in. I ran, and they lunged after me. One of them caught me before I could reach the basement door, grabbing me by the shoulder. I turned and reacted, blindly jabbing him in the face. He let out a cry and let go. I didn't wait to see the extent of the damage I had caused, but my fingers were wet and sticky. I dashed to the trap door and skidded inside, quickly slamming and bolting the door shut. A loud bang made the wooden lid shake, and dust sprinkled into my eyes. My eyes burned, and my heart pounded against my chest.
"I'm going to get you, you bitch!"
"Quit whining and open the door!" another voice yelled.
"She poked me in the eyes!" the first one yelled back.
I quickly descended the stairs and ran to a side shelf where Mark kept a shotgun. My hands shook terribly as I checked to see if it was loaded. The cartridge container was empty, so I quickly loaded it up and scurried to a corner, pointing the gun towards the entrance and waiting. I could still hear the men arguing, and then the banging started again as they tried to force the door open.
I was fairly skilled with firearms, given the life we had lived, but it was one thing to shoot blanks to scare people off and another thing entirely to know that I might have to shoot someone to protect myself. I wished I could just dial 911, but Mark was never in favor of that. He didn't trust the cops and for good reason too. We had always protected ourselves with no one coming to our aid. Besides, they were already inside. No one could help me now.
I shook uncontrollably when the door finally gave way and one of the men peered inside. I didn't speak. The basement room was dark, and my eyes had adjusted enough to see the shadowy form.
"Little one, come out now. Don't make me look for you. I promise not to hurt you. We just want to ask you some questions," a voice said, followed by chuckling from another man.
Clenching my teeth, I waited. When he reached the bottom of the stairs, I pressed the trigger, and the loud boom of the shotgun was deafening in the confined space.
"Shit!" one of them cursed from up the stairs as the first man let out a loud yelp and fell face down.
"Now you're dead!" a voice shouted from the top of the stairs. I quickly reloaded and waited, trying not to look at the big body sprawled on the floorboards, the choking sound of him evidently drowning in his own blood seemed deafening.
Several shots rang out, and I crawled to find cover, hugging my back against the concrete wall. The sound of booted footsteps echoed in the enclosed space. The gunshots continued as they used them to try and force their way inside. I fired several shots in the direction of the stairs, and loud, agonizing cries mingled with the gunfire.
But then a big form grabbed me by the shoulder and dragged me out into the open, knocking the gun away from my hand. A hard blow caught me on the jaw, sending me reeling. Darkness threatened to consume me as my assailant gripped me by the neck and lifted me. I weakly fought to get loose, but the hands around my neck only tightened.
"You fucking bitch!" he growled, saliva spraying onto my face. He pushed me hard against the wall, and the sound of my clothes tearing filled the air. A low cry escaped my lips as I struggled, but it was futile.
Archer
Chad's phone rang again, and I picked it up.
"Where are you now?" Mark asked in a low, controlled voice, and I immediately knew something was wrong.
"About ten minutes away from the club. Why?" I replied, trying hard to control my own voice.
"Someone just broke into my house... my sister is there alone."
"Give us the address," I said, my voice steady. Firing orders at Chad, we quickly headed towards Mark's house. It took us about five minutes to arrive. The large, stately building nestled in the woods surprised me with its size, but I didn't have much time to dwell on its structure. Gunshots were echoing from inside, and a knot of dread formed in my stomach.
Chad told me to stay in the car, but I wasn't having it. Loading my gun, I pushed the car door open and, taking quick breaths, stood up. The pain washed over me, almost making me dizzy, but I couldn't let it stop me. It would be common sense to stay in the car and let Chad handle it, but he was just one man, and we had no idea how many assailants were inside or lurking outside. The thought of Mark being close and joining Chad soon was comforting and the fear of Adele being hurt gave me strength. I pushed forward with the gun in hand and strode towards the entrance as if I were a living dead, invincible.
Chad took the lead, pointing and shooting two assailants before I reached the door. Unknowingly, we formed a pattern: he cleared the way, and I kept moving, following the commotion. It led us to the basement. Peering down into the dark enclosure, I tightened my grip on my gun and aimed, ready to shoot. Carefully descending the stairs, Chad ran past me, lunging at one of the men in a corner. I shot the other one who was trying to shoot Chad.
Muffled cries drew me to a corner of the room, and then I saw a man, about six feet tall, with his pants down, tearing off Adele's clothes. Without hesitation, I tucked my gun into the waistband of my trousers, leaned over to draw a hunting knife from my ankle strap, and positioned myself behind the man.
Adele met my gaze, tears streaming down her face. A profound rage rushed through my bloodstream. Towering over the despicable creature, I reached around him, grabbed his genitals, and sliced him. He jerked back violently, his elbow hitting my ribcage, I grunted, and he let out a growl as blood sprayed everywhere. He thrashed wildly, releasing Adele. She went into a coughing fit, and I didn't take my eyes off her as I overpowered and grabbed her attacker by the shoulders and slit his throat. I have no idea what consumed me at that moment, but the image of him with his pants down and her vulnerable body fueled my rage. I buried the knife in his chest, carving out his heart, before letting him fall to the floor like a worthless piece of garbage.
I stood there, breathing heavily, for about a minute. Adele lowered her gaze to the fallen man and swallowed. The horror in her eyes was palpable. It made me feel strange. Then, I took off my jacket, stumbled forward, and carefully lowered myself to my knees to drape it over Adele.
"T-thank you," she whispered hoarsely. "How?"
"Adele?!" Mark's voice rang out in the house.
"I'm here," she whispered and swallowed.
Feeling exhaustion taking over me, I sat down beside her and leaned against the wall. I saw Mark run down the stairs. He paused, assessing the room with clenched fists by his sides.
"She's fine. We got to her in time," I said, closing my eyes.
“Who the fuck are these people and why the hell are they in my house?!” I heard Mark thunder before darkness took me.