“Lies,” he said.
“Don’t believe me? I can show you the proof right here.”
The atmosphere in the room changed. Ella felt Brad’s intentions altering.
“Prove it.”
Ella reached into her pocket, wondering where exactly to go from here. If she didn’t produce something, Brad would act out in frustration. She found something plastic inside her jacket.
The coin I found on Steen, she thought.
It wasn’t the Chinese coin, but under the shadow of darkness, she hoped Brad wouldn’t see that.
“Here,” she pulled out the item. “Here it is. They actually gifted it to me since I was the one who found it.”
“How much?” Brad asked with a staccato voice.
“A hundred grand, give or take. Maybe even more to a collector in Asia.”
“Give it to me,” Brad said.
Ella put the coin back in her pocket, away from closer inspection. “I was actually going to give it to Ace. He’s got eight kids. He needs it more than me.”
“No, you give it to me. It’s mine. I found it,” Brad shouted.
Ella let the moment hang in the air. “Alright, but you gotta come and get it.”
“Throw your gun down. Over there,” Brad pointed to the far corner of the room.
Ella debated it. Was that a good idea? Did she have any other option?
She applied the safety latch and threw the pistol twenty feet away.
“Happy?”
Brad lowered his knife and took two steps to the left. “Show me the coin again."
Ella shook her head. “Not until you get away from Ace. Then I’ll help you.” She watched Brad’s micro-expressions change as he weighed up the situation in his head. Curiosity turned to trepidation, and then finally, vulnerability. He tensed his shoulders, raised his knife, and pointed it at Ella.
“Coin. Now.”
Beyond the walls, Ella heard the sound of approaching police sirens.
Brad heard them too.
No, not now. I’m so close.
“You bitch. You don’t want to help me at all. You just want to take me down.”
“Brad, wait…” she pleaded, but it was too late. He turned, thrashed his knife around and caught Ace with the tip. Ace toppled backwards, clutching his shoulder as the attacker turned his rage towards Ella.
The last thing she saw was the gleaming tip of a steel blade heading right between her eyes.
Ella felt the hardwood floor against her spine. She’d avoided the blow but had tied up with her attacker and fallen to the ground. The blow had disoriented her for what felt like an eternity, but in reality, it was barely two seconds.
The boy had been quick, quicker than she anticipated. He was reasonably built, and he had speed and agility on his side too. Brad’s cries of rage combined with Ace’s screeching moans created a symphony of hellish sounds in her ear canals.
She jerked fast to avoid the boy’s strikes, coming at her in forceful but inaccurate blows. The knife pierced the wooden floorboards with every thrust, so loud it sounded as though it was her own eardrums being punctured. Ella arched up her knees and booted him in the abdomen, feeling his brittle bones crack at her feet. He flew off her, crashing against the far wall but resuming his attacks without stopping for breath. She caught sight of Ace, collapsed on the sofa with a bleeding wound in his arm.
Brad came at her relentlessly, swinging his blade like a hooligan with a baseball bat. Ella sidestepped the oncoming attacks then found she was backing herself into a corner. Her priority was to get the weapon out of his hands to make it a fair fight. She fell back into the darkened corner of the room, dropped to a crouching position and charged at Brad’s mid-section.
The tip of his knife tinged her back for a brief moment. Ella cursed her misplaced ambition because a knife in the spine meant instant paralysis. She maneuvered around to his back, clutched his wrist from behind and shook violently to dislodge the weapon, but Brad pushed his feet against the wall, sending him and Ella flying back down the ground. The impact on the solid floor winded her, with Brad’s weighty torso crushing her ribs at the same time. She coughed up a spout of blood, knowing there’d be some internal organ damage somewhere. She didn’t have time to worry about it.
Still holding his wrist and keeping it immobile, Ella clutched her attacker around the neck with her forearm and choked with every ounce of power left in her. She felt his neck muscles expand and contract like a balloon, until phlegm poured from his mouth and nostrils. The boy was fading, and she wouldn’t let go until he was out. She tightened her grip, but a second later, all of her energy depleted with a single blow. The pain burned down her forearm and into her elbow with brutal intensity. Blood poured, dousing them both.
Then she saw the knife digging into her flesh. In desperation, Brad had somehow twisted his wrist and searched for the nearest attack point he could. Brad shot free from Ella’s grip, climbed on top of her. She defended his blows and grabbed his forearms, but the distance between the knife edge and her throat wasn’t great enough.
Footsteps thundered somewhere below them. A voice shouted something, but Ella couldn’t discern who it was or what they said. She was too busy trying to survive. The noise provided a momentary distraction and Ella was able to scramble up from her position, but Brad grabbed her from behind, wrapped his legs around her pushed the knife edge against her throat one more time. She held it back with both hands, but her energy levels were depleting rapidly. The pain was constant, sharp, and reaching unbearable levels.
Bang.
A figure manifested at the door, gun in hand.
“Stop right there. Let her go. Now,” Byford shouted.
“No!” Brad screamed at the new arrival. “Someone is dying tonight.”
“No one has to die tonight, my friend. Get up, or I’ll make this hurt.”
“Shoot him,” shouted Ella. “I can’t hold on.”
“No target,” Byford replied.
“Don’t care. Do it.”
It was a risk that had to be taken. Rather she be killed by an honest bullet than the hands of a serial killer.
“Just hold on, Ella. Trust me.”
“Shoot. Please. I can’t…”
Some people said your life flashed before your eyes the moment you died, but the truth was it didn’t. You just froze and pulled a revolting face because you were too scared to think.
Bang.
A deafening sound echoed around the room, like condensed thunder packed into a tiny space. Ella squeezed her eyes shut, felt the vibrations run through her, and prayed that something would be on the other side.
Bang.
Again.
“Ella, get up!” Byford screamed. When she came unstuck, there was no smoking pistol in her partner’s hands, but a hyperventilating man was standing behind her with a plank of wood in his hands. He fell back with exhaustion, and Ella realized that Ace had just smashed the life out of her aggressor with his last ounce of strength.
Here was her chance. Brad was still only disoriented because she could feel resistance when she pushed his blade away. She scrambled to her feet, Brad in tow. She clutched his arm, pulled him closer to her and smashed her palm against his nose. His bones shattered beneath the force, painting her hand a deep shade of red. Brad flailed his blade around, lightly caressing Ella’s skin, and then she saw an opportunity for victory. She ran at the boy, coming at him from the right-hand side. She wrapped her left leg around his stomach and brought him down to the ground face-first. Brad screamed out, kicking like a maniac, but Ella had full control over his lower half. She clutched his ankle, hyper-extending to the point of snapping it in two.