Delphi, Eganene

“You shot him!” Elisabeth yelled, dropping the bat. It clattered to the floor, hitting the wood with a definitive clang. Its side was sticky with blood and when it rolled, it left behind a long, red smear. Her hand throbbed with sensation and she took a step back, feeling the wall against her back.

Peter grinned at her, “You didn’t do too bad yourself.”

She watched him stand up from behind the dresser. His pants were wrinkled and there was a glimmer of sweat on his forehead. Pushing his gun into the back of his waistband, he smoothed the creases from his clothes. He pointed at the bat and said, “You’ve quite a swing there, for a girl.”

Elisabeth took another look at the bat. The fat man was lying at her feet, his broad chest rising and falling evenly. She avoided looking at his head, at the darkness that she had caved in.

The other man was slumped against the wall on the far side of the door. He was unconscious and bleeding badly, but she hadn’t hurt him. A pool was forming by his hand, the liquid thick and black. He was older than the fat man and rail thin, his skin almost translucent from blood loss. She walked towards him and crouched down to get a good look at his face.

Why had these people attacked them? Who were they?

“Did you know this guy’s only got one hand?” she asked Peter, looking at him out of the corner of her eye.

He didn’t respond. He was busy brushing the dust from his knees.

“You shot him in the chest,” she said, emphasizing her words.

She was surprised she wasn’t screaming. This was the first person she had ever seen shot. She was careful not to look directly at the man’s chest. “His shirt is kind of lying over the wound, but there’s a lot of blood. We should call an ambulance.”

That got Peter’s attention. He glanced up, his blue eyes flashing, “An ambulance?”

“Yeah, unless you want a dead guy on your floor.”

She looked at the fat man, “And the police, too. I hit him pretty hard, but who knows how long he’ll be down.”

“There are no police here,” Peter replied.

She watched him take a towel from the dresser and begin cleaning the barrel of his gun. His movements were sure and precise. Mesmerized by the motion, she forgot what she had been saying. She must have crouched there for a bit, because she was completely disoriented when he snapped the last piece into place.

“Po…lice,” she tried again. “We need to…”

“I told you,” he interrupted. “We don’t have any.”

“That’s not…” she tried.

“Or hospitals,” he muttered as an afterthought.

Speechless, she watched as he reloaded his weapon with shells from the top drawer. He pushed each bullet into the chamber.

She counted methodically. “You put seven of them in there.”

“One in the chamber, six in the wheel.”

“I’ve never seen a gun before,” she admitted.

He grunted, folding the dirty rag and placing it back on the chest of drawers.

“Peter,” she tried again. “We have to call somebody. We can’t just let them bleed to death.”

He double checked the safety and stuffed the weapon into the back of his pants, “We need to move. If these guys came for you…”

Elisabeth took a step back, “For me? They weren’t after me.”

Why would the men have been after her? This was his house. They were obviously after him.

“Help me clear the doorway,” Peter was saying.

He was bent over, his hands around the giant’s arms. Elisabeth could see why he needed help. The man was huge, his chest at least twice the size of Peter’s. Elisabeth walked over and grabbed the man’s legs.

She was careful not to look at the fat man or his skull, “I’ve never even met these people. They weren’t after me. I don’t understand…”

“Doesn’t matter,” Peter grunted. “These guys only show up for one reason. They were here for you or someone they thought was you. Either way, seeing as they showed up at my house, they must think I’ve got somebody.”

“What?”

“Elisabeth, people don’t show up, break into my house and shoot at me on a regular basis. They had a reason to come here. I can’t think of any reason except you.”

“But that doesn’t...” Elisabeth started, confused.

“They know you’re here and there will be more. We’ve gotta go.” His voice was clear. He sounded reasonable.

“But...but why do they want people from my world?” she asked, putting her hand on Peter’s arm. “Why would they want me?” He was still pale from the fire, but she thought he looked stronger than before.

He motioned for her to sit on the bed while he filled two backpacks with clothes and other items.

She had decided to trust Peter, but he still made her edgy. It felt like she had to be careful around him, careful what she said and what she did.

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“This one’s yours,” he said, passing her a bag. “You’ll be able to carry it?”

Elisabeth heaved it onto her shoulders. The straps were thick. Her guess was there were forty pounds inside, “Heavy, but I’ll make it.”

“Good,” he said. “Now, listen to me. I’ll explain later. We don’t have a lot of time, OK?”

“OK,” she said. She was relieved he had a plan.

Peter walked to the closet and came back holding two black jackets and a pair of boots. He stuffed a pair of his rolled socks into the toes of one pair and handed them to her.

Surprisingly, they fit. She took a few steps to check the feel, but other than the fact they were sizes too large and ungainly, the boots were good. Next, Peter handed her one of the jackets. It rested nicely over the thick sweater he’d given her.

The coat itself had a slick outside, probably waterproof. It was lined with heavy wool. If she had to go back into the storm, this was definitely what she wanted to be wearing. It took her some time, but she carefully adjusted the straps of her bag so that the fit was perfect. Her mother had shown her how to do this on several occasions. Looking up to thank Peter, she saw him standing over the one-armed man, gun raised.

She acted without thinking, yelling from across the room, “No!”

Peter whirled towards her, his knees folding to make himself a smaller target. He stood up again when he realized there was no threat.

“What the hell?” he asked. His eyes were hard.

“You can’t shoot them!”

“Why not?”

“They’re unconscious!”

Peter actually laughed, “You do remember that they broke into my house with guns, don’t you?”

“The police…”

Peter shook his head quickly, “I told you, Elisabeth. We don’t have cops. When these two wake up, they will hunt us down. They will kill me and they will take you. You can trust me in this, you do not want that to happen.”

He turned back to the thinner man.

Elisabeth could see that the pool of blood beneath the man’s hand had grown larger. The black liquid surrounded each of his pale fingers. Without help, he was going to be dead soon, anyway. She couldn’t see Peter’s face, but his shoulders were hunched forward in concentration.

She didn’t know what was going on, but she believed him about being in a different world. Still, she couldn’t let him kill these men. That would be murder.

She stood up slowly. Peter was intent on the thin man, but he always seemed aware of his surroundings. The storm outside was in full fury and her dry boots dampened the sounds of her steps. From where she was on the opposite side of the room, she could see Peter’s back and the thin man slumped at his feet. She breathed slowly and took her first step.

Elisabeth reached the fat man and picked up his guns.

They were beautiful. In the candlelight, both of the barrels shone gold. She thought they would be too heavy for her, but she was wrong. They fit perfectly in her hands, the ivory grips cool against her palms. The fat man had never even fired a shot, there had to be bullets left.

She took one last breath and spoke, “Don’t move.”

Peter turned to look at her, his gun dipping down in surprise.

“You can’t kill them,” she declared.

“What’re you doing?” he asked, his gaze flickering down to the guns in her hands.

“You can’t kill them,” she said again. “They’re unconscious. It wouldn’t be right.”

Peter rolled his eyes. “Right? You want to talk about what’s right? If you had any clue of what they would have done to you…well, I guess you don’t. Let me enlighten you.”

“I…”

“First,” he interrupted, “they would have beaten you bloody. I’ve met these guys before and I know what they’re into. They would have taken their time about it, watched you cry and scream. They would have made you beg. They might even have pretended to free you, just so they could catch you again. Then, they would begin again.”

She wanted to look at the fallen men, but she couldn’t take her eyes off Peter. “I thought you didn’t know them.”

Peter didn’t answer, instead, he spread his hands, “Once finished, they’d take you somewhere special. I’ve never been to one of these places myself, but I’ve heard the stories.”

“What places?” Elisabeth heard herself ask.

Peter prodded the thin man with the toe of his boot. “Friends of mine told me they have these buildings and about the things they do there. You don’t want me to tell you. But believe me Elisabeth, of all the places in the world you could be, that is the absolute worst.”

“I…”

“Stop trying to reason it out,” Peter said, taking a step towards her. “These men are bad. They would’ve hurt you, hurt you a lot.” He seemed to think for a moment and gestured towards the fat man. “At least he’s human.”

“What?” Elisabeth barked. Peter wasn’t making any sense.

His expression softened. “Trust me,” he said. “It wouldn’t make a difference to you at that point. The only thing you’d be doing is wishing for death.” He took another step towards her. “Come on Elisabeth. Point that gun at one of them. I’m on your side, remember?”

He appeared calm, but his body was tight and ready to spring.

She took a quick step backwards, keeping their distance. “I don’t know whose side you are on. How do I know these guys didn’t come here for you?”

Peter shrugged, the sides of his mouth quirking in a small frown. “You don’t, but you need to trust somebody. I haven’t hurt you and I’ve done nothing but try to help you. You need to give me that.”

Elisabeth nodded unhappily. It was true. Peter had made her leave a burning building and given her dry clothes. And if these guys were really after her, then he’d also saved her life. “I believe you,” she said, “but you can’t shoot them.”

“But…” Peter began.

“No, buts. You shoot them and I’m out-of-here.”

“And where would you go?”

“I don’t know. There has to be some version of police here. I’ll find them and my brother and that will be it.”

Peter grimaced. “For the thousandth time, Elisabeth. We don’t have police. If you can’t get your head around that, then think of it this way. Our cops are called The Family and The Family is who sent these guys. They need to die and we need to get out of here.”

Elisabeth paused, her mind unable to reconcile that logic. Even if these men had come to kill her, right now they were knocked out and bleeding on the floor. She couldn’t shoot them in cold blood. It didn’t matter if Peter was the only one who pulled the trigger, she’d share the guilt. She didn’t want to live with that.

“No, Peter, you’re not going to shoot them.”

She saw his face change, his smile lines clear and his face become very still. Only his eyes moved, their icy depths hardening. “They have to die, Elisabeth. I’ve tried to explain it to you, but they have to die. You don’t have to pull the trigger. I’m going to do it. Just pick-up your bag and go downstairs. I’ll be right behind you.”

“No.”

“Or what?” he said, stepping closer.

She could feel his presence and fought the urge to retreat. Instead, she pulled the barrels of her guns up so that they were aimed at his chest.

Then, she hesitated. She wasn’t sure if she could really shoot somebody and she didn’t want to shoot Peter, “Please, I’m sure you’re right about these guys, but we can’t shoot them.”

“And you’d shoot me? You’d kill me, just to save them?”

She nodded, her face straight, “We can’t kill them. Not like this.”

After several interminable moments, Peter pushed his gun into the back of his pants and pointed towards her weapons. “When they come for us, I hope you’ll be ready to use those.”

Elisabeth took a deep breath. “I swear. If they come for us, I will be the first to shoot.”

Peter took the thinner man’s gun and without another glance, headed downstairs. His shoulders were hunched and angry. Elisabeth figured he probably wasn’t used to being told what to do, especially not by a nineteen year old girl.

Jamie would have known what to do, she thought.

She was worried about him, but he was smart and he could handle himself. Right now, she didn’t really have a lot of options. Peter had helped her, given her clothes and supplies. He seemed interested in keeping her safe.

He was also armed. If there really were a group of men out to get her, then sticking with him had to be the smartest course of action.

Peter hadn’t told her where they were headed, but he had a plan. Once he was less pissed off, she’d ask him about how they were going to find Jamie. Right now, something told her that bringing up her brother might not be the best idea.