Erasing Faith(63)

Not ten minutes later, I’d been half-changed into my uniform when the offices literally combusted. Flames devoured the building faster than any natural fire had a right to. My thoughts turned briefly to the lingering scent of gasoline that laced the smoke around me, but I was soon distracted by more pressing dangers.

Crack, crack, crack.

Gunfire.

Because apparently the actual fire was not enough to contend with today.

For a moment, I stood frozen with fear. Every instinct I had was shrieking to run for the exits, to take my chances with flying bullets over flames.

I reached up and rubbed at my stinging eyes, placing the sleeve of my thin uniform back over my mouth as soon as I’d blinked away some of the smoke. My throat burned with each breath I gulped down and my lungs ached, but I pressed onward.

The voices were closer now, as were the sounds of gunfire ― definitely coming from the front lobby. I could see the swinging door that led into the atrium from here, maybe thirty feet down the hall. Men yelled in guttural Hungarian and, as I edged closer, I could make out some of the volleyed words despite my limited grasp on the language.

A familiar voice called out, his pitch panic-stricken. It was Marko, I realized, half-stunned by the thought.

“Who is it, the f*cking CIA? How did they find us here?”

Another man answered in a raspy, authoritative tone I recognized immediately. Istvan.

“I don’t know. One of the girls tipped them off, maybe.”

Marko spoke again. “You think they’re in the main compound, too?”

A scoff. “No way they’re getting in if Szekely has anything to say about it.”

There was a loud curse, then a short silence. The gunfire ceased for a moment. I glanced behind me at the hallway I just traversed — smoke was creeping around a corner and saturating the space around me. In a few moments, the passage would be fully engulfed in flames. There was nowhere to go but forward.

Advancing slowly, I strained to hear more. Marko was speaking again.

“Are all the files destroyed?”

Istvan’s voice was calm, considering the circumstances.

“I did what I could. The fire will take care of the rest.”

The sharp staccato of gunfire again filled the air, and I flinched to a standstill. Feet locked in place, eyes wide with fear, I listened intently.

Shots firing.

Glass shattering.

Screams of pain.

Body pressed tight against the wall, my heart pounded double-time in my chest. I didn’t want to die here. The thought of leaving this earth before seeing Wes one last time was unbearable.

I pinched the fleshy part of my palm, hoping to wake myself from this nightmare. This wasn’t my life. Things like this didn’t happen to normal people.

I was a freaking history major. An American tourist. A twenty-one year old student who wanted a year abroad in a magical, fairytale city with cute boys, lots of medieval buildings, and plenty of cheap drinks.

I certainly didn’t expect to die in an accelerant-fueled office fire surrounded by flying bullets and angry Hungarian madmen.

Sparks crackled and hissed. Men cursed loudly, yelling about ammunition and exit points. Stray bullets flew and ricocheted. For a split second, I wished for a weapon to defend myself — but quickly realized that even if I had a gun, I’d have no idea what to do with it. In truth, I’d probably end up shooting myself and saving the bad guys a wasted bullet.

I glanced back at the corner I’d just rounded — more thick, black smoke was funneling into the hallway. The inferno couldn’t be far behind.

I looked forward to the doors ahead — the sound of rushing footsteps, heading quickly in my direction, was unmissable.

Paralyzed by fear, I was caught between two very different foes and utterly out of options. Waiting for one to round a corner and kill me.

I knew, with absolute certainty, that I was going to die. My eyes pressed closed as I accepted it without a fight.

Wes had been wrong — I wasn’t brave. I was a coward.

But then, his voice was in my head.

Fears… either they own you, or you own them. Whether you let them rule you — that’s your choice, Red.

I couldn’t shut him out.

Faith Morrissey, you can do anything. Anything. Don’t let the world convince you otherwise.

His words were my salvation.

Five seconds of fear, or a lifetime of regret.

Suddenly, I knew exactly what I had to do. I pretended Wes was there with me — staring into my eyes, cupping my face. Counting down the fear.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

I wasn’t going to die here.

My eyes snapped open and I started running for the exit. I’d almost reached the door when it swung wide and two figures burst from the atrium, nearly colliding with me in their rush to escape.

For one brief, fleeting moment I was relieved as I realized that these weren’t the bad guys, come to banish me to an early grave. I knew these men — I’d worked alongside them, under their protection, practically every day for the past three months. Marko and Istvan wouldn’t hurt me. They’d help me from the flames, guide me to safety, away from whatever madness was transpiring in the lobby beyond.

As Istvan lifted the weapon and trained it on me, I felt my eyes widen in disbelief. Stunned, I stared into his familiar eyes — eyes now fixed so coldly upon me, I couldn’t imagine they’d ever held an ounce of warmth or welcome.