some hooded figure struggling. I know it’s her; her blonde hair flashes in what little moonlight comes streaming through the high windows.
“Help me!” she screams.
“Stop!” I shout. The man roughing her up spins around. He’s wearing a ski mask and a hoodie pulled low over his face, so I can’t see what he looks like. But those eyes are drinking me in. I know that he’s watching me. He looks panicked as he shoves Brianne back and pulls the gun from his hip.
The separation between them is enough for me. I squeeze two shots off at him, but he dives out of the way, hiding behind a large storage container.
Brianne takes off running towards me, arms outstretched. “Here!” I tell her. I reach for her. She’s almost safe. So close. So… fucking… close…
Out of the corner of my eye, I see the man stand and fire twice.
“No!”
He’s not aiming at me.
A millisecond later, Brianne collapses to the floor with a sickening thud.
“No!” I roar again. “No, no, no!”
I resist the urge to run to her. That’s what he wants. He wants me to take the bait.
Instead, I bury down the rage and use my gun, firing an entire clip where he stands. He shoots blindly in my direction, missing badly, as he runs to the back door.
Before he can get away, I take aim one more time and fire. The bullet just barely grazes him on the leg.
He howls in pain, stumbles. He pulls something from his pocket, fumbling with it. I can’t tell what it is at first, but just as I’m figuring it out, I see him press the button on the top.
Oh, fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
I turn and start to sprint for the exit.
I’m almost out.
Twenty feet.
Fifteen.
Ten.
Five.
There’s silence, a small window where nothing happens.
Then, what seems like the entire world erupts.
The bastard had the place rigged with bombs.
The blast knocks me off my feet and sends me tumbling backwards. My head slams onto the cement and I roll to my side as I try to hack the sudden torrents of smoke from my lungs.
Every part of my body screams with pain, especially my knee. I steel myself against the agony as best I can in order to sit up. My muscles rage in protest. Around me, the building crackles with fire, and my ears ring.
The explosion left a tangled heap of metal where the factory once was.
I look down at my leg to see tiny shards of steel sticking from my skin—shrapnel from the detonation. Black smoke billows everywhere, cloaking everything.
Somewhere inside, I can hear Brianne screaming.
The sound turns my stomach. The gunshots weren’t enough of a mercy. They didn’t kill her, not completely. But the fire finishes what the hooded man started.
When her wails suddenly cut short, I know she’s really gone.
Dmitry is still in the building. I try to move, make myself go after them, even though I can already tell it’s useless. As I watch, what’s left of the ceiling collapses with a groaning metallic shriek. There’s no surviving that.
He’s gone, too.
I force myself to stand up even though all I want to do is lie there for the rest of my life.
I can’t lose my brother. Not Dmitry.
I stand and watch, wincing in pain, as the building crumbles to the ground, folding in on itself from the damage.
Suddenly, a black car with tinted windows whips around from behind it, tires screeching. It drives straight for me. I know it’s him. The vigilante. The Justice Killer, they call him.
But what justice is there in what he’s done tonight?
Innocent lives lost. They died in horrible ways. Pain that can never be forgotten.
In what world is that just? In what world is that fair?
I swear one thing as I size up the vehicle barreling towards me, intent on ending my life: tonight will not be my night to die. The Justice Killer has taken all that he will take from me.
Soon enough, I’m coming to take everything from him.
The car is close now. I have one, maybe two seconds to make my move. Left or right? I have to pick.
I fake left, then hurl myself to the right. The car whisks past me, an inch away from turning me into a sack of pulverized bone. I land with a hard thump on the concrete and roll over. I try to look around in time to see the license plate.
Only, there isn’t one.
The car speeds away into the night, leaving me alone for good, with only the