David Vs Goliath (But With Guns and Hand Axes.)
The heavy doors fly open with an echoing boom, sending dust scattering through the air as they crash into the walls behind them. Shouts of men and the metallic clink of guns flood the area and echo in Kats ears painfully, God enhanced hearing sucks sometimes. Men in dark tactical gear and helmets that cover their faces enter in a large mass and spread in a wide arcing formation that covers the entry. The barrels of many guns gleam menacingly as they are aimed straight at the two that stand hand in hand on the raised platform in the middle of the room.
And there, at the center of the militia and walking forward with a condescending confidence, is the man who haunts Katalya’s dreams. Arthur Harrow.
Guns cock, glass crunches, and Kat and Marc stand at the center of it all.
Kat's eyes scan the masks of the militia, their faces obscured and leaving behind no trace of the human being beneath the gear. But Kat can see their steady hands, she can hear their calm breathing, she knows they will not hesitate to shoot. Marc’s hand tightens its hold on hers as he realizes the same thing, suddenly wishing he had sent Kat with Layla.
Finally, Kat's eyes come to rest on the man behind it all. The man who had hired her in the first place and the man who inadvertently led to her quitting as well.
Arthur harrow is smug. His lips tilted in a pleased and easy smile, eyes triumphant and prideful.
“Ah, my dear Katalya,” Harrow speaks loudly, opening his arms in a wide inviting gesture, “What a pleasure to see you again. I must say, I am surprised that Marc has kept you around, what with you being sent to kill him and all.”
Harrow's smirk grows as he believes he's just done something big, revealed a huge secret. His smile drops as he gets no reaction from Marc and nothing from Kat except a deadly glare.
“Yeah, I'm surprised too.” Kat says through gritted teeth, fighting back the urge to just throw caution to the wind and smack that stupid smirk off Harrow's face, “He's a bit dim in that way, but it works out well for me.”
Marc rolls his eyes as he tries to not smile, now is really not the right time for jokes.
Harrow narrows his eyes at Kat, titling his head as he regards her curiously, “You have spirit, Katalya. Many would have fallen into order after being told the consequences.”
Kat scoffs and rolls her eyes, “Oh, you mean those texts that sound straight out of a bad villain monologue in a cheap movie rip off? Yeah, super scary stuff.”
Though Kat keeps her voice dry and unemotional, Marc can feel her pulse pick up against her wrist. Her mind drifting to the one thing she has been agonizing over. Claire. The last text had been about Claire and Kat hopes that Harrow was bluffing.
Harrow's carefully calm face slips for a moment into a dark, hate filled glare, before quickly smoothing into a placating expression. Looking to all the world like an innocent bystander despite the fact that he has armed men pointing guns at two people.
He seems to give up on Kat and instead focuses on Marc. Kat isn't sure whether to be offended or not, she decides she is.
“I remember the first morning I woke up knowing that Konshue was gone.” Harrow sighs, smiling serenely as he tells Marc, “The quiet is liberating.”
Marc's fingers tighten around Kats but he stays still and glares at harrow.
“You're a free man,” Harrow continues, unperturbed by Marc's harsh gaze, “and of course, with that freedom, comes choice. And right now,” Harrow walks closer, safe with the guns trained threateningly on Marc and Kat, “you have a very important decision to make.”
Kat takes a step forward towards Harrow and is immediately pulled back by Marc as guns click around them in a deadly song.
“You're insane.” Kat scoffs at Harrow, glaring as he comes towards them slowly, glass clinking with each step.
“I hardly think I'm the insane one here.” Harrow says, casting a meaningful glance at Marc who flinches back as if struck before closing his eyes, shoulders slumping in defeat.
Kats worried gaze darts to Marc, eyes wide and questioning as he seems to give up. Their eyes connect, saying so many things in one moment, so many things that fill Kats heart with joy and breaks it at the same time. So many things that Marc never knew he could have, never allowed himself to have, things he won't have much longer.
“Okay.” Marc announces to Harrow who smiles in victory and motions for two of his men to approach the two on the platform.
Marc's grip tightens on his hatchet as Kats free hand curls into a fist, her only weapon currently.
The two soldiers keep their guns raised as they approach the two while the other soldiers and Harrow begin to celebrate their win.
Hearts beating together in a steady rhythm, Kat and Marc take a breath as the world stands still for a single moment. And then it begins.
With a loud yell, Marc raises his hatchet and brings it down on the soldier by him while Kat kicks the legs out of the one near her and quickly kicks the soldier's head through the faceless helmet.
Shouts raise around them as they try their best to fight. Marc slashes at anyone who approaches with all his might while Kat struggles to fight against guns with her fists. It's a dance, a waltz that they do together, breathing in rhythm as they try their hardest to cover each other's weak spots.
Another soldier approaches and Marc raises his hatchet above his head to strike down. A shot rings out. And then another.
Smoke curls from the gun in Harrow's hand as he stares down Marc .
The shots shock Kat and she stops mid fight, a cold dread spreading through her as the world seems to slow around her. All she can see is the blood slowly spreading through Marc's clothes and his wide eyes that hold hers, filled with pure fear that Kat has never seen on him. Marc was always so reserved, so strong, seeing this fear scares Kat more than anything.
Kat can only watch as Marc falls to his knees, hands grasping at his chest in disbelief. In a snap, the world resumes its pace, and Kat cannot get to Marc fast enough. His body falls back into the water with a splash, red and pink seeping into the pure water and staining it with blood.
Dropping to her knees, Kat frantically grabs Marc, uncaring of the water, uncaring of the way her senses fill with salty sea spray, uncaring of anything but Marc and Steven. She knows she's yelling, saying something, but she cannot hear above the loud ringing in her ears. Marc’s body is dead weight in her arms as she cradles him in her embrace, rocking back and forth as her chest heaves and shudders with sobs, broken and strangled as they’re ripped from her throat.
She watches helplessly as the light in Marc’s eyes, Steven’s eyes, fades to nothing and his body falls limp.
It feels unreal. It's like walking through a nightmare. Kat can hear nothing but ringing, she sees nothing but Marc's empty eyes, she feels nothing but the stillness of his pulse. Kat cannot stop shaking Marc, beating against his chest, hoping against hope that he will come back to her. That he will wake up and laugh and call her kitty Kat and she can huff and roll her eyes. That Steven will open his eyes and say some terrible joke that makes her forget all her troubles.
But nothing happens. They lay there, still and growing colder.
Finally a sound reaches her ears, above the ringing, above her shuddering broken breaths, a sound she hates so much.
“It is always a shame when things end this way.”
Kats blood stills, her breath evening out as she becomes a statue of ice, ice and hatred. Slowly, Kat gently lays Marc back in the water and stands, turning to face Harrow.
Kat doesn't know what expression is on her face, but whatever it is, it has Harrow taking a step back as blood drains from his face.
In the blink of an eye, Kat has launched forward and tackled Harrow to the ground, landing with a splash in the water. It seeps through her clothes as she holds him down with a strength she was unaware she possessed. One hand wraps around Harrow's throat in a vice grip while the other collides with the man's face over and over, creating a bloody mess. But none of its enough. Her anger, her pain, simply mounts with each hit.
Harrow's nose is broken, probably other bones as well, but Kat doesn't care nor does she stop, her body moves on its own as her mind is blinded by grief. Her eyes close for a moment and when she opens them again, Harrow's head is underwater, held there by Kats own hands.
Harrow struggles against Kats hold, bubbles floating upwards in the water. Kat stares at him, a man who has caused so much pain, trapped to drown by her hands.
A gunshot whizzes past Kats ear and gives Harrow the ability to force his way up for a breath.
“Like father, like daughter.” Harrow says, an evil gleam in his eyes.
No.
Kat stumbles back, hands shaking as she stares at them in horror.
Salt, water, whisky.
A gunshot sounds again along with a pained gasp. Looking down, Kat sees blood spreading through the fabric of her shirt, dark and sticky. More whimpers of pain, but they sound so far away. Kats knees hit the floor, she's sure of that, but she feels nothing. Ragged breaths are floating around her but it's so hard to listen when she feels so tired, so cold. Kat wishes Marc and Steven were here to curl up next to and take their warmth. Where are they?
She watches as Harrow stands and brushes himself off, walking behind her and shoving his foot in her back. Kat falls forward, landing face down in the water she had just been holding Harrow under. The waters cool against her skin as it trickles around her.
‘Why have I been so afraid of the water?’ Kat thinks sluggishly, her eyes closing heavily as all the fight leaves her body, everything that she has held for so long finally releasing and she is left with nothing but emptiness.
Brown eyes flash in her imagination, soft and loving, bright and happy. A smile curves across Katalyas lips as she falls deeper and deeper into an everlasting peace, waiting for those brown eyes and open arms.