On Our Own

Scott was sure this was a nightmare. He’d had one just like it as a child. He’d wake up in his bedroom and find his brothers slaughtered in bed beside him, throats dripping with blood. Only he was in a hotel room this time, and his brothers were yelling at the sight of black-uniformed men sprawled across the beds and floor, throats cut. Carolyn stood in the doorway, holding a knife. Her hands were covered in blood. She cast the knife aside and drew a gun from somewhere beneath her jacket, and then she shouted for Bob.

“Robbie! Come on - we have to get out of here!”

He hesitated, then scrambled off his bed. He yelped when he accidentally kicked one of the bodies.

“What about us?” Dan asked. He was breathing rapidly, but he was calm.

“John’s on the way - he’ll make sure you’re secure. Bob’s my priority.” Carolyn held out her hand. “C’mon, Robbie.”

An explosion rocked the building.


The dream-like buzzing that had filled Scott’s head since he’d awakened cut off abruptly. “What’s going on?”

John appeared in the doorway, and he was armed with a gun as well. “We’re federal agents. We have the situation under control. Come quickly and quietly.”

Dan obeyed first, and he had to tug on Clay’s arm to get him to follow, which he did, dazed.

Carolyn laced her fingers with Bob’s. “Let’s go.”

Bob stared down at the blood that stained her hands. “Did you kill all those men?”

The chatter of machine-gun fire broke him out of his dazed. John flung himself to the floor and fumbled for his walkie-talkie. Carolyn tackled Bob down, and Dan dragged Clay down to the carpet, so Scott followed suit. He didn’t even know where the sound was coming from.

John flipped his walkie-talkie on. “Agents Simon and Pierce. We’re on the third floor under heavy enemy fire, and we have the package. Requesting backup immediately.”

The only response was static.

John swore. “Combat command’s been hit. Raid the corpses.”

Scott could only stare as Carolyn reached out and tugged an assault rifle off of the nearest fallen body.

“What’s going on?” he asked again.

Carolyn patted the body down for more ammo. “We’re on our own. How are you with a gun?”

(385 words - "Spybreak" by Propellerheads)