I lunged forward, pulling my mother towards me and falling to the floor - just as the window facing the road exploded into shards.

A long gun volley swept across the house, literally knocking down everything in its path. Picture frames and vases exploded, cushions and sofas flew apart in a flurry of stuffing and foam, curtains tore, fluttering as if caught in the wind. It was as if poltergeists had entered the room and were now tearing everything they could see to pieces.

My mother fell right on top of me, and I quickly rolled over, piling on top of her to shield her from the debris and possible shots. Shards of glass, plaster, and other rubble rained down on my back and head, dug out by the bullets from the walls and furniture.

The furious gunfire lasted for only about three seconds - that's a full thirty-round magazine on some automatic weapons. But it felt as if I had stuck my head into hell and quickly pulled it out. So, they're about to reload and either start shooting at the house again or storm it.

And I still have time.

"Mom, are you okay?" I asked quietly, lifting myself off her.

She looked at me with bulging eyes, as if trying to understand what had happened in horror, but the reason for her expression was not her fear. I dropped my gaze lower and saw a spreading stain of blood on her chest. A small bloody spot that was growing larger at a frightening speed.

"Mom?" I asked in a silly tone, full of surprise, like a little child who saw that his mother was in pain.

At that exact moment, the second round of gunfire rained down on our house, forcing me to press myself to the floor alongside my mother. A few times, I felt something brushing my hair. Several bullets struck mere centimeters away from us, chipping the floor. And again, it lasted three seconds, which for me stretched almost a whole minute.

And then silence again.

Something told me they were about to storm the house - to finish off anyone left inside. They hardly came for me, more likely just to intimidate, like they did with Mari and Malu.

"Mom, hang in there, okay? I'm going to call an ambulance now," I whispered quickly, almost in a tongue-twister. "Just lie here and don't move, please."

A bullet in the chest - it's not the worst. The heart is on the other side, so everything will be okay. She can hold on for half an hour, and then someone will help her. Yes, they'll help her - an ambulance will arrive soon.

I kept telling myself this, trying not to worry about my mother - because I had other things to worry about. I needed to deal with the people outside first; otherwise, neither of us would have anything to worry about.

On all fours, so as not to accidentally flash in the window, I crawled closer to the wall, scratching my hands on the shards, and stood up next to the window. I literally pressed myself against the flimsy structure, which a machine-gun bullet could pierce without a problem. Right now, those standing by the car couldn't see me, just as I couldn't see them, but I could see the path to the front door from this angle. If anyone approaches it, I'll...

And here, by the way, is the one who wants to approach. Some guy in a mask was quickly sneaking up to the door with an assault rifle. My vantage point gave me just the right angle to see him. Had he turned his head, he would have noticed me too, but he was too focused on the door, and that's why...

I aimed, holding the gun with both hands and bringing it as close to me as possible.

The pistol was practically in front of my face. Not so close as to recoil me in the face, but not far either - just like they hold it inside buildings so that no one can hit the hands sticking out from around the corner. I got the sneaky one in my sights...

And at that moment, he looked straight at me.

Too late. I shot. And then again. At the same time, automatics started firing. I hit the floor, pressing against it as tightly as possible, when shreds of the wall, torn out by an automatic burst, showered over my head.

Somewhere through the gunfire, I heard screams:

"I'm hit! I'm hit, oh god, that bitch shot me!"

A hail of bullets turned the wall into a sieve through which I could see the street. Considering the fact that light was pouring out the house through these holes, I would be clearly visible if I started peeping. But three seconds passed, everything calmed down, and I changed my position so that the wounded man on the path to the door couldn't see me now. I leaned out and started shooting.

They immediately hid behind the car, and the bullets just sparked off the hood and punctured the doors. A short burst at the house from somewhere to the right - the wounded man was trying to return fire. While the others were reloading, I carefully peeped out, aimed as soon as another burst passed by, and fired several times directly at the dark silhouette on the light concrete. I shot very quickly, releasing four bullets, and then hid behind the wall again. I moved to the side, and bullets punctured the wall where I had just been.

I made it to the kitchen; the windows here also faced the road. Peeking out, I saw that there were now only two shooters, not three. They fired in short bursts, clearly conserving ammunition. The third was dragging the wounded, or maybe dead, comrade away from the house.

I could hear sirens wailing somewhere in the distance, getting louder and louder every second. Only two or three minutes had passed, and they were already rushing here. Really rushing. Apparently, the entire police force is on edge today and ready to respond to any shooting.

I didn't rush to fire; I just watched the bastards loading their comrade into the car. Two of them were monitoring the house windows quite tensely, clearly afraid of catching a stray bullet. If I had an automatic, maybe I would have tried to kill them all, but with a pistol at such a distance in the dark, it wouldn't be easy. I'm not that good of a shot, and there will be three guns against me.

I let them go. We'll likely cross paths again soon, but parting ways is best for now.

They packed up quickly and floored the gas, leaving the crime scene, the tires squealing on the asphalt as a farewell. Had I arrived a bit later, they could have killed my Mom… So, Arrow decided to visit everyone involved in this matter and distribute his 'gifts' as a reminder of our debt to him.

And that 'debt' is in my right pocket. The moment I remembered about it, my hand reflexively reached for my pocket and felt it. The small rectangular casing of the flash drive was distinctly palpable.

It held no value now. Toss it, hand it over - either way, they'll kill me, if not as a witness, then out of revenge. This only meant that if I wanted to survive, I needed to kill them first. And take back the money while I was at it.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

I returned to the room where my mother was lying.

"Everything is fine," I murmured, placing her hand on her chest. "Press it like this, yeah, perfect."

I felt like I was in a nightmare. My wounded mother, our destroyed house that had become a true home to us over these three years despite its shabbiness. The police would arrest me on the spot if they found me here. The clan and the noble house are on my tail, both itching to get their hands on my head and the flash drive. In just one day, I've seemingly become target number one in the entire city. Everyone is after me. And even if I fall into the hands of the police, I'm sure they would hand me over to the house.

Yet, at the same time, I feel a certain coldness inside of me. Yes, I'm nervous, my heart is racing, and adrenaline is rushing to my head, but I still feel composed. Like I'm about to take an important test that I'm prepared for and know I'll pass.

Maybe I'm confident in my abilities?

Or is it a sense of hopelessness, when you accept your fate and move forward without fear?

Or am I going insane?

Who cares? I'm not panicking, my head isn't clouded by terror, and I fully understand what I need to do.

So, I immediately dialed the ambulance on Malu's phone. With a surprisingly calm voice, I gave them my address. It seemed like the me inside and the me outside were two entirely different people. I didn't understand why I wasn't shaking like a leaf. Maybe it's because…

Because I'm only feeling the usual physiological fear, but I'm calm inside?

What does it matter...

The police are very close; I can practically hear them approaching our street.

"I'll return, Mom," I whispered softly and kissed her on the forehead. "You are alright. Natali and Nataliel will be alright, too."

Tears welled up in her eyes at my words and quickly rolled down. It hurt to see her crying, wounded, watching our family crumble before her eyes. But everything will be okay. At least, I'll make sure of that.

Finally, as if saying goodbye, I brought my palm to her cheek, trying to remember how my mother felt to the touch, then got up and quickly went to my room.

I looked around, checking what might be useful to me, and accidentally noticed the photographs that the now-deceased Alex had given me. The very photos from the Chinese diner. Two images - one with Mari, the other without.

It took me one second to make a decision. I quickly took them and hid them in my pocket. The police will surely search everything, so I shouldn't leave them any extra clues that would lead them to me or my gang. The more time I buy, the better - it's far easier to deal with the problem between me and Arrow without any pursuers.

Pulling on my mask, I quickly jumped out of the window just as several cars screeched to a halt outside. I saw how the red and blue lights painted the houses with a bright, slightly creepy color. Why creepy? Probably because it's associated with the police, who only show up where there's trouble.

I ran to the wooden fence, jumped, and, with difficulty, hoisted my body to the other side. Thank goodness it was so low, and I didn't have to break through it with my weight. However, I couldn't hold on and fell like a sack of potatoes onto the ground. I got up and, without dusting myself off, started running, accompanied by the sound of sirens like a criminal.

Although now I am a criminal.

I saw people peering out from the house whose yard I had entered, but they didn't rush to come out. I pulled out my gun and pointed it at them, forcing them to hide back. I ran through the yard, got to my car, climbed in, and immediately ducked - a police car rushed out onto the street. It passed by me as if not noticing. What do they care about an old hatchback? All the vehicles here are like that, and this one didn't stand out against the rest of the scrap metal.

As soon as they passed by, I started the engine. It obediently rumbled under the hood, filling the car with a soothing vibration, which seemed to say that everything was still manageable and not over. But for some reason, I felt very sad in this car.

Pushing all distracting thoughts to the back of my mind, I pulled onto the road and quickly left that street without turning on the lights. Several times, seeing cars approaching in the distance, I swerved to the shoulder or onto the driveway of a house, then killed the engine. I had to do this about fifteen times before I left this neighborhood, which, to top it all off, turned out to be cordoned off - patrol cars had blocked the roads.

But I solved this problem too - I turned off the headlights again and drove in complete darkness through the park, where junkies usually hung out, teenagers had sex, or someone got killed. I drove past such characters several times until I got to the road on the other side of the cordon.

Now, my path led to our apartment, which, I hoped, had not yet been cleared out. Whether they knew about it or not, I couldn't say for sure, but there were things stored there that could be very useful to me.

Before that, I had tried several times to get in touch with Syringa, and, to my great surprise, I succeeded.

"Yes, yes! I'm here!" Her relieved voice was almost breaking into a scream, as if she was happy to hear from me. "Fatso, thank God, you're alive! Merciful Keeper, how you scared me... I didn't know what to think. What happened there?! I tried to reach out, but nothing worked! No one opened the door; you just argued, then gunfire... Are the others with you?"

"Everyone's dead, Syringa," I calmly replied.

On the other side, there was silence for about twenty seconds, as if she was trying to understand what she had just heard.

"Sorry, what was that again? I must have misunderstood."

"Everyone's dead, Syringa."

"Everyone... dead? And... Malu? Where's Malu?"

"When I say everyone, I mean everyone. Malu is also dead. Malu, Ali, Crowbar, Geezer, Mari. All killed."

"Mari?! What do you mean, Mari?!"

"She was also killed. Arrow is tying up loose ends. We apparently stole something important, and he's eliminating witnesses."

"But why Mari?!"

"I'll explain later. Where are you? Why didn't you answer?"

"Because I went to the place where we were supposed to meet if something goes wrong. The old house in the suburbs on Kovylina Street. We agreed to meet there, but no one showed up... it's clear now why..."

Right, we were supposed to meet there if something happened.

"I thought that Crowbar or Geezer had set something up and turned us in to Arrow."

"No, it's a bit more complicated, Syringa."

Now, I had to figure out whether I could trust Syringa or not. After what had happened, I just don't know who else might betray me for money or loved ones. Who can be relied on here? I would gladly follow Malu's commandment: "Trust no one. Anyone can betray," but I'm afraid I need help.

Alright, I need to figure this out...

Alex said that only he and Arrow were aware of what was supposed to happen. Syringa was clearly not involved in the plan, well, according to him. And he wouldn't have sent her to the car if she had been an accomplice. On the contrary, he would have kept her around to make it easier to deal with everyone. This means that in this particular plan, Syringa was not in on it with him and, possibly, didn't know about what was going to happen.

But is she snitching to Arrow now? At this moment? Yes or no? Although, in this case, I can just secure myself and take all her communication devices, this is unlikely to be enough. And I need her help.

Is trusting her my only option? Shall I rely on chance? Alright, we'll see how it goes, but I doubt I can trust her with my back.

"Syringa, I need to meet with you."

"I don't think that's a good idea, Box," she replied immediately.

"Why?"

"You're the only one who survived. Where's a guarantee that you're not a rat?"

And now it's I who is suspected of being a rat. Although this could also be a pretense, of course.

"It's up my ass. Come over, and I'll show it to you. I need the money that Arrow now has. But he's after the flash drive, which I still have. And more importantly, if you want to confirm I'm not a rat, listen to the news. They recently shot up my house and injured my mother. Tried to kill me. I wouldn't have shot up my own house. And... if I were you, I'd take your sister out of there."

"Don't drag my sister into this!" Syringa almost shouted into the receiver.

"Shut up and listen. Arrow is tying up loose ends; he killed Mari, even though she had nothing to do with it. He tried to kill my mother. I don't know about Alex's family except that he's an only child, but you have a sister. You know I don't know your address. So, go there and get her. And then watch, maybe someone will come. But be careful."

"Alright... Okay, fine, I'll take your advice and get my sister. But Box, if this is you working with Arrow..."

"Go get your sister, idiot," I cut her off and turned off the receiver.

I wish I could trust someone.

Now, the most important thing was left - our apartment with Malu's stash. He had rounds, explosives, and grenades there, which could come in handy. All this would greatly simplify my task. Malu seemed to have said that Arrow didn't know about that place, so it's quite possible that nothing has been stolen from there yet.

So, without much thought, I headed toward the residential area. I didn't rush and tried to drive on the less busy roads, strictly heading toward the tall pipes that remained from the times when the factories were still in operation. Twice, I spotted police cars, but both times, I was lucky - once, I just turned into the yards, and the second time I brazenly drove against traffic.

Today, I was clearly lucky. The question is: how long will my luck last?