"Blame him!" the lead robber hissed, looking up. He raised his shotgun, aiming directly at the boy.
"NO!" Keith's roar was sudden and primal. He moved faster than Simon could react, throwing himself in front of Tommy.
Keith's body jerked violently as the pellets tore into him, his breath ripped from his chest in a guttural scream of pain. His skin bloomed with the sickening, wet red of blood. The sharp sound of impact echoed in Tommy's ears, each blast a searing bolt of terror. Keith's eyes widened in shock, then glazed over, his hands instinctively reaching for the wounds as if trying to hold himself together. But it was too late. The blood gushed out, dark and thick, pooling around him like a gruesome halo. His mouth opened, gasping for air, but all that came out was a low, ragged wheeze as his body grew limp. Keith slumped forward, his head landing in Tommy's lap, heavy and lifeless. His warmth faded, leaving only the cold weight of loss. Tommy felt the sudden emptiness in his chest, the overwhelming weight of the horror sinking in. His father—gone, in the blink of an eye.
The world seemed to shatter around Helena the moment the shot rang out.
She had been crouched with the others, trembling but trying to stay strong, her mind whirring with desperate prayers that this nightmare would end. When Keith moved, she wanted to scream, to call him back, but her voice caught in her throat, strangled by fear. And then the sound—so loud, so final—cracked through the air, and the sight of him collapsing sent her heart plummeting into a void she couldn't comprehend.
"Keith!" she shrieked, her voice raw, tearing through the tense silence of the room. Her hands flew to her mouth, as if trying to hold back the anguish that spilled out in broken sobs. Her legs moved before her mind could process, carrying her across the cold, polished floor to where Keith lay.
Tommy was clutching his father's bloodied shoulders, his small frame shaking with uncontrollable sobs. His face was pale, his cheeks streaked with tears. Helena dropped to her knees beside him, her hands trembling as she reached out to touch Keith's face. His skin was still warm, but his eyes—his beautiful, kind eyes—were dull, empty.
"Keith," she whispered, her voice cracking. Her fingers brushed his face, his cheek slick with blood that wasn't supposed to be there, that didn't belong there. "no… no, no, no. Please, stay with me. Please, wake up."
The words tumbled out in desperation, as if saying them enough times would reverse what had just happened. Her tears fell onto his face, mingling with the crimson streaks. She clutched his shirt, pulling him closer as if she could keep him tethered to her. But his body was limp, heavy with the finality she wasn't ready to accept.
Tommy's sobs grew louder, and Helena's gaze turned.
She had already felt the universe tilt off its axis as Keith fell, his lifeless body crumpling to the floor. But when she noticed the crimson streaks on Tommy's shirt and the way he clutched at his side, her heart nearly stopped. The boy was still crying, his small, trembling hands pressed to the spreading stain of blood, his voice a hoarse, panicked whimper.
"Mommy… it hurts…" Tommy's words barely escaped his lips, his voice weak and strained. His face was pale, his eyes glassy, as if the strength to stay upright was leaving him moment by moment.
"No. No, no, no!" Helena choked out, her hands darting to him. "Baby, where? Where are you hurt?"
Her hands trembled as she pulled his shirt aside, revealing the tiny, angry holes left by the shotgun pellets. The blood was flowing too fast, too much, pooling under him and staining her knees as she knelt. Her breathing hitched, and the tears blurred her vision as she pressed her hands to the wounds.
"It's okay, Tommy, it's okay, sweetheart. Stay with me. Mommy's here," she said, her voice trembling, trying to sound strong even as panic overtook her.
But Tommy wasn't responding now, his small body slumping against hers. She felt the dead weight of his limbs, and it struck her like lightning—his legs weren't moving.
"Tommy," she whispered, shaking him gently. "Tommy, look at me. Can you move your legs?"
The boy blinked up at her, his face pale and etched with pain. He tried, but his legs didn't respond. His voice was barely audible as he whimpered, "I can't… Mommy, I can't feel them..."
Helena's chest clenched so tightly she thought her heart might stop. "No," she whispered, her voice breaking. "No, this isn't happening. You're okay, baby. You're going to be okay. Just stay with me. Stay awake. Please, stay awake."
Her hands were covered in his blood now, pressing against his side, trying to stanch the flow. But it was seeping through her fingers, warm and sticky, and she knew it was bad. Too bad.
Her gaze darted around the room, her tears blinding her for a moment. Everything seemed to slow, as if the air itself had thickened, trapping her in a cruel, surreal nightmare. The sounds of gunfire and shouting faded into a muffled hum, overpowered by the deafening roar of her own heartbeat. Through the haze of gunpowder smoke, she could see the chaos unfolding like fragments of a terrible dream.
The TAC team was pouring in, their movements precise and methodical, their voices sharp as they shouted commands. Bullets tore through the air, their sharp cracks reverberating against the marble walls. Each shot seemed to stretch on forever, the glint of shells falling to the ground catching the dim light like shards of a broken mirror.
One of the robbers, wild-eyed and desperate, turned his weapon on a hostage. Helena saw the flash, heard the sound distantly, like a scream under water, and watched in horror as another innocent life was snuffed out. A woman crumpled to the floor just a few feet away from her, her blood mixing with the scattered money raining down from above—tattered bills fluttering like leaves in a storm.
The air was thick with gunpowder and smoke, stinging Helena's eyes and filling her lungs with acrid bitterness. The coppery scent of blood was overwhelming, mingling with the despair that hung in the room like a dark cloud. Every breath felt like a struggle, every second an eternity.
Amidst it all, she felt her grip on reality slipping. A dark thought slithered into her mind, unbidden and horrifying.
What's the point of fighting? Keith is gone. Tommy's hurt. Maybe it's better to let it all go… to just stop fighting this pain.
The weight of her grief pressed down on her chest, threatening to suffocate her. For a fleeting, terrifying moment, she considered surrendering to it—to the darkness that whispered promises of an end to the agony.
But before the thought could take root, she felt a sudden, jarring force yank her backward. Her body jerked violently, and the world around her tilted as two strong arms wrapped around her and Tommy.
"Move!" a voice shouted, breaking through the suffocating fog.
She looked up, her tear-blurred vision struggling to focus, and saw Simon's face. His sharp features were tense, his gray eyes intense as he dragged them both toward the safety of a bank counter. Her knees scraped against the cold marble floor, but she barely felt it over the numbness consuming her.
Simon pushed her and Tommy behind the counter, shielding them from the chaos erupting just feet away. "Stay down!" he commanded, his voice steady despite the storm raging around them.
Helena tried to speak, to say something—anything—but her ears were ringing, her head pounding with the echoes of gunfire and the roar of her own panic. She stared at Simon, his mouth moving, but the words were lost in the cacophony.
It wasn't until Tommy stirred weakly in her arms that the fog began to lift. His small, trembling hand brushed against her wrist, his touch anchoring her to reality.
"Please…" she choked out through her sobs, her voice raw and broken. She looked up at Simon, her tears streaming freely. "Please, help my son. He's been hurt."
Simon crouched closer, his face softening just enough to show a glimmer of reassurance. "The medics are on their way in," he said, his tone steady and certain despite the chaos. "I promise, they'll take care of him. Just hold on a little longer."