Sasha had a manic grin on her face.
“Fuck the smoke’s everywhere,” someone said right in front of the window. He coughed and gagged. “Get the front door open. What the hell is happening? Is this fucking window broken?”
The door unlocked and opened a crack. “I don’t know, boss, might’ve been—”
Cam kicked it as hard as he could and the edge smashed into someone’s face. The guy dropped backwards into the dark safe house, and Cam went in gun up. Shots fired off and I ducked down, covering my head, as Sasha barreled forward followed by Linc and Anna. The sisters went in last.
More gunshots burst out. The flashes of their muzzles were like camera bulbs, but their roar was like the explosion of fireworks right next to my face. I stayed out front, too afraid to go inside during the fighting, but I heard the yells—pained screams, all male voices, and one angry female cursing up a storm like a wild banshee.
Then the shooting stopped as abruptly as it started.
I stood up breathing hard, gasping to get air in my lungs. I stepped inside and right into a pool of blood. I groaned, wiping my shoe on the scuffed hardwood floor, and walked over the body.
The house was in bad shape. The walls were scuffed black and marked all over, the white paint flaking off in patches. Water stains covered the ceiling. The furniture was mismatched, a combination of rotten, trash-picked couches and ancient chairs missing their stuffing. Bullet holes riddled the walls, and the place smelled like burning logs and sulfur.
There were two dead guys in the living room and smoke was everywhere. “Cam?” I said. “Where are you?”
Then a figure emerged from a door up ahead. I raised my hands—but it was Sasha. “Come on,” Sasha said, grabbing my arm. She was grinning like she just won the lottery. She seemed to glow with a wild, manic inner joy. She had on tight jeans and a tight shirt, and looked like a warrior with her hair slicked back. “I killed a guy!” she said like she was announcing her love for a pop star.
“Good for you,” I said, dizzy. She led me into a kitchen smeared with blood. Pots and pans filled the sink and one cabinet hung loose by a single hinge. The floor was tile and cracked in places, and the countertop looked like it had a perpetual film of slime over the top.
The sisters stood over a guy that was groaning on the floor, both of them pointing their guns. Cam and Linc were in some other room.
“What should we do with this one?” Lara asked.
“Kill him, I think,” Vera said.
“Please don’t,” the guy said. He was young, smooth face, big gold crucifix around his neck. He was shirtless and wore a pair of baggy jeans. His leg bled from a hole in his thigh. “Please, I’m sorry.”
“Doesn’t seem sorry,” Lara said.
“Not sorry at all.” Vera pressed her gun against his head.
“Enough fucking around,” Cam said, storming into the room.
Vera pulled the trigger. The guy’s head snapped back as he crumpled back to the floor.
“Cam,” I said, relief flooding me. I went to him and threw my arms around his body. I felt something sticky—blood on his clothes. “Are you okay?”
He nodded. “Not my blood,” he said and gently moved me back. “You got the sticks?”
I dropped the bag I’d brought with me down on the cheap, peeling linoleum table, and dumped it over. Several USB sticks clattered out. “Now he’ll know,” I said and looked at Cam. “And he won’t be happy.”
“Good,” Cam said. “Fuck him. Everyone ready?” He looked around. “Where’s Linc?”
“Upstairs.” Anna’s voice from the hallway. “Stealing money.”
“Good for him,” Cam said. “Come on, ladies, let’s go.”
Sasha grabbed my arm like a teenager at a dance and tugged me along. The sisters followed, laughing with each other. I felt surreal, and the blood and bodies did nothing to make me more grounded. These girls were acting like they just watched some fun movie and wanted to chat about it, instead of having just broken into a mafia safe house and murdered a bunch of men.
Linc came down the steps and joined Anna with a big bag slung over a shoulder. “Bonus,” he said, grinning.
The whole group stepped out into the night. Linc and the others hurried down the sidewalk, back to their respective cars, and Cam jumped behind the wheel of his. I hesitated, looking back at the house.
“Irene,” Cam said. “We’ve gotta go.”
“They seemed so happy,” I said, glancing back at him. “You saw them, right? They were excited to kill those guys.”
“I know,” he said. “But imagine how they feel. Now come on, get in.”
The sound of sirens in the distance snapped me out of it. Gunshots probably didn’t go off this close to campus very often and someone must’ve called the cops right away. I jumped into the car and Cam sped off.