The kitchen was a battlefield. The assassin’s world shrank to the small area of space that provided him with safety, and he crouched behind the counter. He watched in horror as the boy moved closer. The sight was unthinkable.
Adam advanced, protected by his fallen comrade’s body weight. It was a grotesque strategy, a move that defied all logic because it was so cold and brutally pragmatic. The assassin’s professionalism was completely destroyed. All he was was a man up against a monster.
He took the only action that came to mind. He fired. He repeatedly squeezed the trigger, launching a barrage of bullets into the body Adam was using as cover. The bullets thudded pointlessly into the deceased man’s flesh and body armor.
Fueled by pure adrenaline, he continued to fire a desperate and frantic barrage. He drained his magazine. His pistol’s slide locked back onto an empty chamber. The storm of gunfire was followed by a sudden and deafening silence. It was the sound of his own death.
Adam heard it. The click. the end of the fire. He had been waiting for this opportunity. He responded immediately. He pushed the body forward with a roar of effort.
With all his system-enhanced strength, he pushed it.
The deceased killer slammed into the counter after sliding across the slippery linoleum floor. With bone-jarring force, it crashed into the last man still alive.
It had a devastating effect. The killer was not far away. He lost his balance due to his partner’s dead weight. His empty pistol slipped out of his hand and skittered beneath the kitchen table. He staggered back, thrashing his arms in an attempt to get his balance. He fell to the ground with a crash. There was a sickening crack as his head struck the cabinets.
He glanced up at his swimming vision. Adam was the first thing he saw. Over him, the boy stood with a mask of emotionlessness on his face.
His silenced pistol’s barrel was aimed straight at the assassin’s face. No time to talk. No time to plead. No time for closing remarks. The muzzle’s dark, unblinking circle was all that was visible.
Adam squeezed the trigger. It was a very clinical shot. A flash of red marked the end of the third assassin’s life. He had passed away. At last there was silence in the kitchen.
Adam, however, did not unwind. Too much suffering had taught him that lesson. It was not until he declared it over that the fight ended. He approached the final man he had slain. To make sure the man could not activate any concealed devices, he knelt down and carefully moved his hands away from his body.
His chest caught his attention. No suicide vests. Not now. He did the same with the other two bodies. He was meticulous and thorough. Nothing was left to chance as he sanitized his victory.
The noise from the altercation had spread. Muffled gunshots, the thud of bodies falling, the sound of plates smashing. All of it had reverberated into the night. Sophia’s mom had not made much progress. Her mind was racing with fear as she clambered through the neighbor’s garden.
However, she was stopped in her tracks by the sounds of the struggle. She had made an effort to follow Adam’s instructions. She had attempted to sprint to the building site. However, she was unable to. She had a child. That house contained her daughters.
The noise was worse than the quiet that followed the battle. It was a thick, oppressive veil of doubt. Her heart beat frantically against her ribs in her chest. It was too much for her.
Running back toward the house, she turned. Her children’s pull was stronger than the fear that gnawed at her throat.
Sophia upstairs had heard it all. The sounds of a life-or-death battle occurring just beneath her feet were muffled by the crashes and muffled shots. Like an animal in a cage, she paced the tiny bedroom. Her younger sister Anastasia, whose little face was white with fear, clung to her arm.
"He told us not to come out," Anastasia said in a tremulous whisper. "He instructed you to remain here."
Sophia paid no attention. She withdrew from her sister’s hold. She rattled the knob of the bedroom door. It was secured. They were locked in by Adam.
Sophia said in a desperate tone, "I have to go down there.","I brought him here. I am to blame for this. I can not if something were to happen to him."
She was unable to complete the sentence. The idea was too much to bear. She pushed her shoulder up against the door. It trembled in its body but remained solid.
"Sophia no," Anastasia begged, her eyes welling with tears.
Sophia, however, had a desperate need to know. Pulling as hard as she could, she turned the knob once more. With a splintering crack, the old lock finally gave way.
The door opened. Sophia made no hesitation. She bounded out of the room and headed for the stairs.
Anastasia sobbed, "Sophia wait." She hurried after her older sister.
With their bare feet slapping the wooden steps, they flew down the staircase. When they got to the bottom, they dashed into the main hallway. They noticed the side door swinging open as they hurried toward the kitchen. It seemed like a lifetime ago that Adam had brought Sophia through the same door.
Sophia’s mother stood with a terrified expression on her face. Her eyes were wide and searching as she looked inside the house. Sophia was the first person she saw.
Sophia called out, "Mom."
The head of her mother whirled. She looked at her two daughters, standing in the hallway, unharmed and safe. She felt a rush of relief that nearly made her knees buckle. She hurried inside and slammed the door. She threw her arms around her girls and gave them a tight hug.
She buried her face in Sophia’s hair and sobbed, "Oh thank God....I thought... I thought something that something had happened to you."
Sophia gave her a brief hug in return. But Adam was on her mind. She pushed her mother away gently. Anxiety burned in her eyes.
"What is going on, Mom?...Where is Adam?"
The question lingered. Anastasia’s gaze shifted from her mother to her sister. The young girl had a profound realization at that very moment. She could see the unadulterated worry on Sophia’s face.
She became aware of how much her older sister loved the odd, reserved boy who had become a part of their lives. He was not merely a fellow student. There was something significant about him. Something she feared losing.