EA hail of bullets rained down on us, the air alive with chaos and danger. I didn't think—I acted. Instinct took over, driving me forward.
I hauled us both toward the wall of the building, shielding her as best I could through the relentless storm of gunfire. Each step was a battle, but I pushed on, refusing to let the chaos consume us. When I finally found a spot I deemed safe enough, I didn't waste a second.
"The culprit is hiding—leaning against the wall! He's on the ground!" one of Devilin's goons bellowed, his voice sharp with urgency.
"We can't jump from here," another muttered, scanning the distance below. "Let's hurry back down."
A third goon, peering over the edge, confirmed, "Boss, he's on the ground. He won't get far."
My hand darted into her pocket, pulling out her phone. I used her thumb to unlock it, my movements swift and precise. The moment the screen lit up, I entered the code for my beautiful Easter. The call connected, and relief flickered through me like a fleeting spark.
"Come outside. Follow the GPS coordinates of this new phone!" My voice was firm, calculated, leaving no room for error.
Now, all I could do was wait—wait and hope.
Hope that Easter would reach me before Devilin did.
I let my gaze settle on Doctor Ishaan—her eyes, once sharp and filled with defiance, now dimming, growing weak. They were shutting down.
This wasn't good.
"Doc," I called out, my voice pressing against the silence. She didn't respond—didn't even flicker.
A pulse of fear gripped me. "Doc, stay with me?" My words wavered, edged with desperation.
Still, nothing.
I patted her cheeks, hoping for some sign, some spark of life.
"Come on, Doc, just a little longer. I will save you."
I moved fast, checking her wound, feeling the heat of her blood beneath my fingers. Too much blood. Too much loss.
I pressed my left hand against it, applying pressure, willing the bleeding to slow—willing her to stay.
I wasn't losing her. Not now. Not here.
In less than two minutes, my beautiful Easter roared into view, her sleek frame a beacon of hope amidst the chaos. I dragged Doctor Ishaan with me, every step a battle against the pain in my ankle and the weight of the moment pressing down on me.
"Open the right door!" I shouted, my voice cutting through the noise before I even reached her.
Limping all the way, I pulled through, forcing myself forward despite the agony. I barely managed to sit her on the right seat of my beautiful Easter when the two speeding American Ford trucks appeared at the left corner of the C-Max Prison.
Their arrival was heralded by a wildfire of bullets, tearing through the air with deadly precision.
I set her securely in the seat, my movements frantic but focused. The left side was a death trap—moving there would mean certain death.
With no other choice, I pushed myself on top of her.
My body was safe, but my legs dangled precariously outside the car. The door refused to close, leaving me exposed to the chaos around us.
"Easter, drive!" I shouted, my voice trembling with urgency. My heartbeat thundered in my chest, faster than it had ever raced before.
Easter roared to life, her engine growling like a beast ready to escape. She surged forward, but before she could gain momentum, a violent impact slammed into her from behind.
The force rattled through me, and I felt a pang of hurt—not just physical, but emotional. My beautiful Easter—my trusted companion—had been bashed.
"Maximum speed, Easter! North-east!" The words spilled from my mouth automatically, driven by instinct and desperation.
The pain of the collision lingered, but there was no time to dwell on it. Survival was the only priority.
My beautiful Easter roared forward, breaking free from the relentless pressure of the two American Ford trucks. Her engine growled with defiance, a testament to her raw power and resilience.
I hauled myself into the driver's seat, crawling painfully, every movement a battle against the ache in my body. My hands gripped the steering wheel tightly as I pulled myself upright, forcing my body into a semblance of comfort.
Only then did I turn my gaze to Doctor Ishaan.
Her white coat was stained, the pristine fabric now marred with dark, clotted blood. The wound on her left shoulder was the source, the blood trailing down to her belly in jagged, crimson streaks.
The sight hit me like a cold wave, sending a chill down my spine. It wasn't just the physical damage—it was the fragility of life staring back at me, the stark reminder of how close she was to slipping away.
The chaos outside raged on, but in that moment, all I could focus on was her. Keeping her alive was no longer just a priority—it was the only thing that mattered.
My mind raced, desperate for ideas, for a starting point. I had seen blood before—my own, countless times. But the blood in front of me now, spilling from someone I cared about, terrified me in a way I couldn't explain.
Maybe I didn't want to accept what had happened. Maybe a part of me wished I could reverse time, undo the chaos that had led us here.
But wishing wouldn't save her. Action would.
I had to do something. I couldn't let her die—not after everything we had been through.
I reached for her neck, my fingers trembling as I checked for a pulse. Relief flickered through me as I felt it—weak, but there. The blood was still flowing, a cruel reminder of the urgency pressing down on me.
Gently, I parted her white coat, the fabric stiff and stained with clotted blood. My hands moved with care, but my heart pounded with fear.
I tore her T-shirt, the sound sharp and jarring in the silence, exposing the wound beneath.
The sight of it hit me like a punch to the gut, but I couldn't afford to hesitate. She needed me.