#mcnally

“Heading upstairs.” McNally dashed up the stairs, carefully scanning her surroundings with her arms outstretched, gun pointed outwards. He had to be here in this house somewhere – she had been sitting outside, staking out the with Sam for the past few days, hoping to see him slipping out, trying to avoid their patrols. But they couldn’t wait any longer.

She turned left clearing the bedroom and bathroom. She dashed across the hallway and into the other bedroom. Clear. And yet, it was like she had missed something. Slowly, she swivelled 360 degrees, stopping when she came across the bookshelf. Scratch marks littered the floor, originating from the left corner.

Without holstering her gun, she used her left hand to pull the bookshelf away on its axis, revealing a hidden door. Makes sense why there were times we couldn’t understand where the hell he went.

“Upstairs, rear room.” She called out.

Slowly, she entered, switching on her flashlight, and sweeping the room. All of a sudden, she felt a swift kick to her knee, and she toppled over, flashlight clattering across the room, and her gun now pinned under her body.

She attempted to flip over onto her back, knowing full well who her attacker was. He was too strong – he grabbed her by the scruff of her neck, and wrapped a meaty arm around her throat, pinning her into him. A few moments later, she felt the cold of a barrel being placed onto her temple.

“Don’t make this more difficult.” Make what more difficult? Her answer came quick – she could feel him slowly tightening the tension in his arm, and she begun to feel the lack of oxygen reaching her lungs. Stars danced in her eyes, and she could feel her consciousness slipping her into a different plane of existence.

She struggled, trying to twist out of his grasp, but was failing miserably.

“Let her go. Hands up.” A torch flashed over her, and she heard Sam’s commanding, authoritative tone reverberates through the walls.

“Or so help me God,” he continued, “I will shoot you here with no qualms.”

From her perspective, it only felt that the threat had caused him to tighten his grip even more.

A shot rang out, and her ears ringing. Seconds later, she felt his grip slack, and she slipped down to the ground, gasping, and gulping for air. Instinctively, her hands ran up to her neck, as if to check it was still there.

From what little she could gather, Sam had rushed forward, kicking away the gun that was pushed into her head, before coming over to her.

“Andy. Deep breaths. He can’t hurt you.” He let her catch her breath, before scooping her up and walking her out the building, straight to the paramedics.