"Time to die fucker."
"Fucking amateurs."
510 fires his gun, but Darryl's momentum slams him into his friend. Sending the weapon across the floor. His biggest mistake. Darryl draws his weapon from his ankle. Firing from the hip level.
Putting two rounds in 510. Then hammers another two rounds from his chromed .380 into his partner. Hitting him in the chest and head. He falls backwards, but is dead before he hits the ground.
It all happened within a matter of seconds. I had to admit I was impress. Astonished. Frozen in horror.
Darryl took my hand again and we edged past the receptionist area to the glass doors.
"Most likely there are more of them outside. Stay close to me." Shoving open the door on the right. Glancing behind him and at the men laying dead. Bleeding on the ground.
Deep breaths Adela. Deep breaths. The adrenaline, wearing off. Leaving me with a shaky feeling.
Wailing sirens grew louder as more police vehicles draw closer to the scene. Flanked by curious pedestrians and frightened guest as each given their own version of what actually happened inside.
We wedge our way into the crowd. I eyed the ice parlour. Wishing that we could stop, sit and indulge. Wishing that we. Darryl and I could have a normal relationship.