Shit! I yelled in my mind, know I couldn’t scream through the duct tape.
The police kicked down the door. I felt the shot rip through my leg and I doubled over with pain. Bullets rained down on the attacker and I felt tears welling up. Police removed the tape and I screamed, “FUCK!” Loud. Louder than I ever thought I could in my life. I screamed so loud that I’m pretty sure the two dead girls heard me scream.
“Sweetie, what is your name?” a S.W.A.T. team member asked me.
I stared into his eyes and I knew.
“….130581358748205853-17424251986.” I mumbled, stopping to choke back tears every few numbers.
I felt my soul exit, and quickly enter again.
I looked the girl in the face. She repeated the numbers.
“What did you say?”
She didn’t respond. She must’ve passed.
“Come on, Rob, let’s get her to the paramedics,” a different S.W.A.T. team member commanded.
I sliced the rope with a knife I found in a sheath on my right ankle. I carried her down the steps of a warehouse of sorts and out to the waiting ambulance.