Derek was uncertain what just happened and whatever was going on.
The man on the floor looked up at him. Derek recognised him. It was
Gerry. The chef. He liked him. But what had happened?
Derek stared helplessly as the man on the floor stared at him and says
“Your father… he needs you…” The man collapsed and just as he did,
the door opened once again. An armoured security guard stood at the
door. He was dressed in a black and white uniform with a black set of
body armour on his chest.
“
Ah shit, Gerry… Damn it! Hey Kid, come here! You must be Derek” He
smiled. “Come with me. I’ll take you to your dad. Don’t worry I’m a friend.”
He held out his hand. “I’m Stan”. Derek quietly
greeted him and took his
hand. The two le the dark bedroom and out into the hallway. The hallway
was a mess. It was loud. Not with talking but with gunfire. It was chaos.
There were bloody bodies spread out across the floor and bullet holes and
dents across the previously sleek and elegant furniture.
Thankfully, the chaos seemed far from them but Derek wasn’t scared. At
least he tried not to be. The hallway was large and split into two separate
but obvious lanes with gaps in between them.
An explosion fired upon
their right side. No shrapnel in their bodies so far. Stan drew out his
sidearm. A small, sleek handgun. Its cold, dark steel plated sides shone in
contrast to the complete white and grey of the hallways. The two kept
walking ignoring the mass amounts of gunfire surrounding the two. They
didn’t talk and both knew that the handgun was probably their only chance
of survival. Surprised, Derek stood s ll when Stan stopped, bent down and
held his handgun out towards him to take.
“
Really?”
