Roman

The nurse went one way and Ellie the other. The choice of who to follow wasn't hard. I just had to hope that no one had seen the woman's face. I couldn't protect the whole damn city. If I could only save one, it wasn't even a choice.

"Ellie!" I yelled over the chaos. Her head turned as she ran, a natural response to the sound of her own name.

At any other time, I would have been overjoyed by what I saw in her eyes. Out of nowhere, this new version of Ellie radiated confidence and authority. I doubted whether she knew it herself, but to someone who cared, it was as plain as day. The newfound knowledge that she wasn't alone in this world, that she had someone to be strong for seemed to have jolted her back into life, after months casting around in the darkness. It was a lifeline, a shot in the arm, something to hold onto.

I couldn't deny that I admired her reaction right now, even if I couldn't understand it. It showed an unyielding side to the girl that I'd suspected existed deep down within her, a side I'd seen flashes of color from, sparks that illuminated figments and fragments and facets of her personality, if not the whole picture. At least, not yet. But right now, we had bigger fish to fry, and if we didn't get out of here in the next few seconds, we'd be the ones in the frying pan. I glanced up, and saw that the two gangsters had quickened their pace now – making no attempt to hide their goal.

Ellie's eyes widened the moment she saw me, and she jerked back as instinctively as if she'd been burned. "Get away from me," she said. Her voice was low and controlled, yet her flinty, glinting eyes told the real story. She was seething with an icy, glacial rage, perhaps more angry than I'd ever seen her. More angry than anyone I'd ever seen. I knew what her reaction meant. It meant that she knew the truth: the secret that I had been too scared to share. But her reaction told me something else. I guessed that she knew less than she thought. A portion, a fraction, a sliver of the truth. Just enough knowledge to be dangerous – to herself.

"We don't have time for this, Ellie," I begged, grabbing her arm in an attempt to usher her out of danger. "You need to –"

She shook me off, interrupting me, and cast a glance at our pursuers over her left shoulder. "I don't need to do anything you tell me," she hissed, diving into the parking garage. "You're sick, a freak! I don't know what you want with me, but whatever it is, you're not getting it. There something wrong with you. You need help. I'll," she stammered. " I'll go to the police!"

I winced and shook my head with frustration. "Listen, I'm sorry I lied to you. I'm sorry for a whole lot of things. But don't cut your nose off to spite your face. You need my help."

"Stop telling me what I need," Ellie growled, her tone hoarse with exertion. My breath was ragged now as well, coming in fits and starts around sentences. I started planning, casing the joint, thinking through all the angles. It came naturally to me after a life spent in the shadows. You always need a plan, because a man without a plan is as good as dead. I knew one thing beyond any doubt. We didn't have time to fight. Every second spent debating with Ellie was another second closer to a bullet in our backs. It didn't matter that she was right. "Just leave me alone," she gasped, pressing her hand against her side. Her face pinched with pain. She was unfit. All those months spent comatose in a hospital bed had carved out their piece of flesh, and now it was taking its toll.

"You need to come with me," I shouted, my voice echoing around the concrete parking garage like it was a cave. I kicked myself mentally for using the word need. "Those men are killers, Ellie –"

"And you're not?" She panted. She was visibly slowing now. I knew what I had to do, my plan. I knew what I had to do, but that didn't mean I liked it. I knew that it might cost me everything, might cost me any chance of Ellie ever trusting me again. But I knew that it might be the only chance of saving her life. It was a risk worth taking.

Fuck!

This wasn't going how I'd anticipated. I knew that Ellie's words were justified, but the irony punched me in the gut like a sledgehammer. I was trying to save her life, not end it. But I knew that she had no reason to believe me. Any trust that I'd built up with her through saving her life was washing, then flooding away with every second that we spoke. Argued.

I reached behind myself, to the familiar, hard bulge of a weapon tucked next to my lower back into the waistband of my jeans. I tugged it loose, fighting the unwilling embrace of my tight leather belt. I didn't want to start a shooting war outside of a hospital if I didn't need to. But I would, if it meant saving her life. Ellie's eyes jumped to the weapon in shock. "You wouldn't!"

In the event, I didn't have to. A shot rang out, punching a chunk in a concrete stanchion not far from my head and a woman screamed, shattering the calm afternoon into slivers. A siren rang out, adding to the confusion, and my adrenaline spiked in response to the familiar sound. To normal people that sound meant fear and confusion. To me it was a lullaby, a soundtrack of my life. An icy chill spread throughout my veins as I settled into a long-practiced routine. Tight, cramped spaces. Rows of cars. Dirty, gray, dented concrete pillars. This was my habitat, where I thrived. Like any predator, I had my own hunting ground, and it was here, right now.

I turned and loosed a shot. It wasn't meant to hit, just to provide cover – and not to hurt an unlucky bystander. Enough death stalks my dreams at night without adding an innocent to the list. The slug crashed through a truck's windshield, and the glass clouded over as a patchwork cobweb of cracks splintered across it. A few shards of shattered glass fell onto the concrete floor, tinkling as they landed and bringing an unexpected, choral end to the gunshot's violent retort, still echoing round the garage.

I called out. "Ellie?" But she was gone, twenty yards away already; with her arms pumping like she'd reached the final stretch of a marathon. At least she's out of their range, I thought. But another emotion quickly replaced the cool relief that had barely begun to sooth me – the burning, aching frustration of a painful realization.

I swore. She was fast, but tiring quickly. Months of inactivity had worn her stamina down to a husk. I knew that catching up with her wouldn't be a problem. The problem would be in convincing her to come quietly. I knew she didn't trust me. I couldn't blame her. I wouldn't either. But somehow I needed to find some reserve of compassion inside me. Some way of convincing her that she could trust me, believe in me, like I did her. You could just say it like that, bozo. But before any of that, I needed to slow down the chasing footsteps behind me.

I turned, steadied myself, and fired twice. Two measured, well-aimed shots landed just inches away from the first of the chasing gangsters. They ducked behind the nearest car, a big Ford F150. I cursed, realizing that I wasn't operating at peak efficiency. Normally, I was lethal. It was wide the crime families in this city paid me so much. And not just this city, either.

The reality and finality of my new lifestyle began to dawn. I'd spent my entire life operating as a lone wolf, a man with no tribe, no connections and no ties. And then, just like that, everything had changed. She had changed it. My world was different now, my outlook wrenched away from the simplicity it understood – action and reaction. Life, and death. Payment… And murder. I needed to wake up and smell the bacon.

Get out of your head, Roman.

"Ellie, please, wait!" I called out. I lay down a smattering of gunfire to encourage my pursuers to keep their heads down for a few moments longer. If I knew that type at all, and I thought I did, they wouldn't be too anxious to risk themselves. I made a break for it, knowing that even after months of inactivity, Ellie still had the stride and elegant gait of a runner. I'd lose her if I wasn't careful. I looked down at my own frame as I ran, ejecting the spent magazine from my weapon as effortlessly as breathing. The corners of my mouth turned upward in a smirk. Elegant would be the last word I'd use to describe myself. Firm, sturdy, and powerful? Sure. Muscular and devilishly handsome? If I did say so myself… But elegant? Not a snowflake's chance in hell.

The sight of her disappearing body urged me onto ever-greater efforts. A burst of energy suffused my legs, and I began to close the distance between us effortlessly. She turned a corner, snatching a peek over her shoulder as she span, and her face was black with thunder. She wasn't scared, but furious. Not wavering, but determined.

But more than any of that, in this world, Ellie was a novice. She was wet behind the ears, and I knew she'd be willing to put her life on the line to save her child – and that because of it, her lifespan would be measured in hours, not days. The people she'd have to go up against would kill her as soon as look at her.

And put like that, I knew what I had to do. I charged forward, gazelle-like. Reserves of energy I didn't know I had filled my legs with a spring I didn't know existed, at exactly the time that Ellie's began to fail her. I hope I can convince you this is for your own good… I thought, wincing as I imagined how I was going to explain myself. Not easily.

And then I tackled her against the wall, shielding her body as we fell, legs entangled, to the ground.