“Shoot me. It’ll make them trust you.”
Heathcliff eyed Benjamin, his eyes fixated on the blond’s face. He heard the men in the distance growing closer with each step, and he desperately wished he would slow down and stop time.
“Shoot me. It’ll make them trust you.”
Shaking his head vehemently, Heathcliff pleaded: “Please, please don’t make me do this!” But he knew that he had to, and it made him feel sick. They had been in a scouting mission to prepare for what would ultimately be Heathcliff first assignment. That was, until the place began to have a lobster infestation.
The men moved quickly, without making a sound as their feet moved heavily across the dirt. Heathcliff huffed harshly and drew the musket up with shaky hands. Breathing heavily, the younger man took the loaded firearm and pulled the trigger as he aimed to graze Benjamin’s shoulder. The loud shockwave could be felt in his gut as he heard Benjamin’s cry of pain and he hoped and prayed that he had been successful in his aiming. Slowly the smoke began to clear as Heathcliff felt the barrel end of another musket press into his back.
