Who did I see? No one. All I saw were shadows and the flashes of muzzle fire.
Slightly scared, I dialed Max's number.
"What do you want, Val?!" His voice was irritated when he answered, and I could hear laughter in the background. Sandy's laughter.
"Max! We're under attack! I need you here!" My voice shook. I was desperate.
But he laughed. I said I was in danger, and he actually laughed! Good Lord!
"Val, chill out. I'm sure you can handle it. Besides, I'm a little busy here."
"Busy? Busy with Sandy?"
"Yeah, with Sandy," he replied, his tone mocking. "She's more fun than you, anyway."
And then he hung up. Just like that. Five years, and he couldn't even be bothered to care if I lived or died.
I felt bile rise in my throat, in anger and in fear. I was alone. No, not alone—betrayed. When I glanced around the room, the shadows crept closer. Then, I heard the door crash open behind me.
Fine! I'm doing this alone!
No choice, I held my gun and spun around. Sadly, there were too many of them. I fired and hit one, but the others kept coming. Out of ammunition, I backed up.
Suddenly, the man pointed his gun at me. At this point? All I could do was breathe, gasp, and pray.