Chapter Two
696 Words
Pauline was done eating her salad, but was drinking Pulpy in the tiny sips. Eno let her drink for a while before downing the content of the glass and hoarding the bottle.
A loud bang rang through the air. Similar sounds followed.
Eno scoffed, stabbing furiously at the almost meat in her dish. It kept sliding off her fork. "What now? Christmas came early?"
Eno thought the firecrackers were early. The children, and the handful of adults who went around throwing firecrackers always started the ritual a few days before Christmas. Not when it was the first day of December.
“Eno – ”
Eno turned her head around in breakneck speed. Something in Pauline’s voice did not sound right.
She frowned. “What is it?”
Pauline was closest to the large window. She was looking out of it. “The sounds. They are not firecrackers, they are gunshots.”
Eno stopped chewing. Her throat closed up. Liquid trickled down her back. She could see the gunfire.
"Get down, Pauline," she screamed. "Down".
Everyone in the restaurant galvanized into action. There was a lot of screaming and crying. A middle-aged woman close to Eno bawled.
“The door,” another person screamed. “It’s unlocked.”
“Someone should lock it.”
“Someone close to the door should lock.”
Nobody moved. The people close to door were as still as the night. Nobody was ready to be the Jesus in the situation.
Shuffling continued as the gunshots sounded closer. The people in front scampered to the back, someone tripped over a table.
“They are here,” a woman shrieked. A man in his fifties tripped. Katherine was sure there would be a stampede at this rate. Eno dragged Pauline under the table.
The large windows they were sitting beside were no option. The latch seemed to have melted together with the whole frame.
Pauline was balled up under the table, her eyes unfocused.
The gunshots no longer sounded from a distance. It sounded like the thieves or kidnappers, whatever they were, were in the restaurant with them. Eno spotted a table at the extreme end of the room and pulled Pauline with her. They would be safer there.
They both made for the table, backs bent, hand-in-hand. They were almost at the table when Pauline’s hands slipped from Eno’s.
“My ring.”
“Your ring?” Eno asked. “We’ll get it later.”
Pauline said nothing.
Eno gritted her teeth. “Pauline, don't you dare."
The words had barely gotten out of her mouth when Pauline dashed forward. The ring had rolled to a stop several tables away from them.
“Pauline, what the hell is wrong with you?!”
Something whirred in her ears. A gun had gone off, Eno was sure. A light switch turned off in her head. She could hear herself screaming Pauline’s name, her body acted on its own volition.
“Down,” a man bellowed. He was one of them. He had a gun in his hands.
He dragged someone roughly to their feet. Eno’s heartbeat became regular. It was Pauline. She had not been shot.
The man pointed at her. “You”
Eno’s eyes widened. “Me?”
“Yes, you,” he said. “Come here.”
Eno swallowed and walked to him. Her legs wobbled slightly.
Pauline had a pleading look in her eyes. Eno grimaced, she could not get over the fact that Pauline would, could have been shot and she would not have been able to do anything about. The thought of Pauline lying on the floor wounded left a bitter taste in her mouth.
The man motioned towards a man Eno had not noticed. He strode over to them, his gun cradling on his shoulder.
“Boss,” he said.
“Take them to bus.”
Eno’s stomach tightened into knots. She could feel her dinner in her mouth. She had never imagined that she would be kidn*pped, not like it was something one would imagine happening to them.
"I'm sorry," Pauline mouthed.
“Round them up, Seth," he said, and patted Seth on his shoulder.”
- Writer
