17Six a.m.
I read the red glow of the clock in the gas station. The gun is loaded and pressed against my temples. I'm going to die. I'm fucking going to die. I wonder what I'm supposed to think. Should I be saying goodbye in my mind? But that makes no sense, because no one will ever hear it.
Of course, this is the plan. To the letter. But there is something in Will's eyes that tells me its real now. He really hates me. He really wants me to die. And I know why.
Everything has been one big mistake. I shouldn't be here, with a gun to my head. I should have done something else. Gone to the police, maybe. Not gone along with them. But they threatened me. They know where I live. They know everything about me. I've been out of my depth for a while now. Three years, to be exact. I'm in over my head. There is no option for giving in, though. Not with so much at stake.
The assistant is pressed up against the magazines, his hands flat against the wall above him. Chaz has his hand pressed against the assistants' lower back, so he can't move. I notice that some of the faces of the girls on the front cover are being crumpled. Will takes my arm roughly and pushes me aggressively through the door. I glance back at the assistant, and look into his face. He is as terrified as I am. He's nearly crying. I feel sorry for him. But he doesn't have a gun to his head.
Chaz mutters something to the assistant, then kicks out his legs. He crashes onto the cream lino and lies there, shaking and clutching his legs. I wonder if he is okay. His ankle looks broken. His foot is hanging the wrong way. When I turn around to look at Will, I find the gun isn't pressed to my head anymore, but held back a bit. Before I can saying anything, Will shoots at my arm, as though to say, see, I wasn't just messing around. I feel the bullet slip through my skin easily. The pain burns up my arm, through every muscle. I feel really nauseous. But I'm so numb with cold the pain isn't as bad as it could have been. For that, at least, I'm grateful.
Leaving the assistant terrified, Chaz and Will drag me out of the gas station with my hands behind my back. They escort me across the parking lot. It feels like they're police men and I'm the criminal, as they're leading me to my cell. Ironic, really. The sky is turning and there is a crack of light pressing on the horizon. My head is spinning as I finally see the amount of blood on my hands and jeans. I feel a rise of sickness burning my throat. My arm throbs dully. I can't believe a bullet has just passed through it. I can't believe I've just been shot. Surely that only happens in movies?
My watch now says quarter past. We come to the steps. We climb up them, still being careful to step on the edges to avoid the loud sound. Although it doesn't matter now. We've got what we came for. The freeway is pretty much empty now, but we don't stop to look at it. The gate is near. I'm feeling faint, there are blotches of black in my eyes. I force my legs through the wire mesh. My mouth tastes old and rancid. I know I'm going to collapse, I've lost so much blood. I must have groaned or something, because suddenly there are arms to catch me and everything has gone black.
Half past. Fucking hell my hands are so shaky, because there is nothing running through the veins. I feel empty. They're dragging me, and I can't make my mouth tell them to stop. I want to know where they are taking me, because surely its over now? They've got what they wanted. They don't need me anymore. My eyes are too heavy and I can't keep them open, but I'm still conscious. My hands trail on the ground and I wonder if anyone has noticed a beat-up body being carried through the streets. But probably no one cares. I try and figure out the direction we're going in.
Their footsteps are rhythmic and it pounds my body. Maybe they think I'm dead. I imagine them zipping me up in one of those plastic bags for dead bodies. Maybe they'll bury me alive. My mind is rambling, I feel delirium reach me. Fuck, I think I may actually be dying.
To make myself feel better, I try and remember all the bad things my perfect brother has done. He made a mistake once. He gave the wrong dosage to a child by mistake. It was when he was first qualifying, a few years back. But it doesn't matter now, I think. It was a long time ago, and he's learned from his mistake. It's water under the bridge. Although I know its not for the family of that child. I hear the sound of someone on a cell phone, but the words are muffled. I open my eyes up a little and glance at my watch. It's twenty to. Time is going real slow.
I try and catch some of the phone conversation and hear my brothers name mentioned. Crap. Now I know where they are taking me.
But suddenly they stop. I half open my eyes, but I can't see much. Just a brick wall, and the concrete beneath me. They put me down: they literally drop me, just inside a little courtyard, and I bang my head hard on the cold concrete. I'm paralysed. I can't turn my head or move my legs. I feel so physically weak. We must be near a house, because I can hear doors opening and closing and footsteps on stairs, although from where I am I can't see any buildings. All I can see is the pale grey sky above me and the shelter of a red-brick wall. It's still freezing cold, but my body seems numb because I can't feel much. I'm alone and bleeding, but I can tell there is no one around because, other than Chaz and Will, the street is quiet.
I feel arms around me and I'm lifted again and carried. It's so humiliating, but its not like I have any sort of choice in the matter. I'm pretty much dying. I'm jolted around and I feel so sick. I hear footsteps and them whispering something, but I don't know what it is. They carry me into a house. I can tell because of the temperature change. Suddenly it is really warm. The house smells horrible, like an overflowing rubbish bin. Chaz sits me on the bottom step of the stairs, and I look around me. The wall paper in the hall is garish with large flower patterns. The carpet is thick and stained with mud and sick and God knows what else. I see a photograph hanging by the door, and I catch my breath.
We must be in Chaz and Will's house.
AN: sorry this has taken so long. and I hope its okay. I looked back at the other chapters, and there are quite a few mistakes which I'll update sooner or later. so plz be patient! and to my reviewers - thank you! and no, this hasn't actually happened to me! lol. plz r'n'r!