Back at the hospital…
Kieran's phone rang, and it was a call from his lawyer. He picked it up, sitting at the edge of the bed, his face sourer than a lemon…
"Hey, Mr Alexander," he said.
The lawyer replied quickly over the phone, "Yes, sir. So, I was briefing through the case files of, you know, your previous one with Mr Stamps. To cut things short real quick because I need to attend to something, I realised…" he paused, a deep sigh escaping his lips, "… we actually aren't yet safe from this matter."
Kieran shifted in his seat, intrigued, his fingers pressing down on his left shoulder. He furrowed his brows.
"You're going to ask how come," the lawyer interposed. "This is because you, sir, were supposed to hold charges against him because it was clear enough he assaulted you. The police met you bleeding when his club, as I heard from Miss Amanda, was covered in blood.
But no one could bring that to the court when they had no evidence of him hitting you. Thus, in theoretical thinking, you had an ulterior motive for dropping the charges."
Kieran mumbled, tilting his head, "I had…?"
"No, no… Mr Holland," the lawyer cut in, explaining better. "I'm not saying you do, but now, that's what the inspectors would think. Half-minded, you know. So, this is the thing. Mr Stamps is now considered a refugee when either you, Mrs Martyr's family, or the Smith family are brought into account. In short, if anything happens to him in prison, they'll suspect you lot. Because you all are his direct victims."
Kieran cleared his throat. "So, what you mean is, me withdrawing the charges meant I might have wanted to free him and punish him later by myself?"
"Yes, in both the executive's and judiciary's belief," the lawyer affirmed. "But you don't have to worry about that, though. So long as Mr Stamps doesn't die anytime soon, no one will suspect you guys."
Kieran asked silently, "And what if he does?"
The lawyer stuttered, clearly searching for the words, "W-well, we're just going to deal with it. We will… yes, we can."
Kieran nodded his head and replied, "Okay. See you later, Mr Alexander."
"Yes, sir. Have a quick recovery over there."
Kieran hung up. He sighed out loud, throwing his phone over the bed. He had no idea why it was like that thing was actually going to happen – that Mr Stamps might actually die any time soon. Perhaps this is life again – it gives you hints, then soon the big revelation drops.
"Damn… I'm not ready for this mess."
***
Meanwhile, along the remote countryside road…
The wind blew dust over to the bus's window. The driver grunted, staring left at the stacks of withered leaves, "Ah… this is the con of travelling in the countryside…"
"Hey, watch out!" Jean shouted. But the driver looked up too late that he couldn't stop the wheels from bumping into a spike strip thrown on the road.
The spikes punctured the front tyres, deflating them straight away. The two officers reported a hijack through their radios immediately, and all the police behind pulled up so they rushed outside with their guns.
In an instance, the nine ambushers around the pile of rubble opened fire. They shot at the bus and the other police cars… The officers ducked behind car doors so they could open their own fire, too.
"Protect the prisoner at all costs!" the white-bearded man shouted before rising from his duck and shooting at the shoulder of a scapegoat he pictured ahead.
The bullet bounced off the guy's shoulder, thanks to wearing a body armour. The white-bearded man realised that when the guy continued shooting, he gritted his teeth.
In a moment, the distant sound of a revving bike caught an officer's attention. He stared back so much that his head peeped out from the car's door… A bullet shattered the window and pierced his head, blood splattering all over the car and the ground. And at the same time, on the face of his colleague.
"Ray!" the officer cried, unable to hold him before he exhausted his last breath, unable to cry his tears out to mourn his friend… And all he could do was focus on getting out of here alive and making a perfect funeral.
Well, maybe someone else would do that for both of them.
The captain jumped off the bike while racing forth, and the machine slammed into the officer, shattering his backbone right away. It sandwiched his face to the door, from where blood trickled down, and… In a sudden moment, the car exploded. Everyone ducked away from anywhere near it, resulting in the downing of more officers mid-step.
A black smoke thickened above the car, carrying the dreams, hope and shared moments of the two friends. Ray and Edmond - may your souls rest in peace, was all the white-bearded man said before mustering his courage to get into his car.
He gritted his teeth as he got the engine running and accelerated forward. He ducked behind the wheels as bullets came raining towards him, shattering his front window. His colleagues there almost thought he was abandoning them until he drove past the bus and gunned down two of the ambushers by shooting their heads.
As two others turned to shoot his wheel, Jean thought he had found a chance. Because those two had been distracted. He grabbed his gun and headed down the bus, even though the driver told him not to.
No one noticed him as he crept closer to the large slab of rock, where those guys were shooting the man's car non-stop. One of the other ambushers saw Jean and was about to shoot when his revolver clicked, signalling he was out of bullets. He went on to grab another gun when he heard… BANG.
Jean killed one of the men… and quickly rushed into the other who attempted to shoot, pinning him close to the ground. And at the same time, using the rock slab to shield against incoming bullets.
Back around the police cars, the captain slipped skilfully from one to another and brought the men down without making a sound. Because he was using a silencer type of gun – it doesn't make a sound when shot. One fact was undeniable – this guy was too skilled that any bullet hardly got to him because he moved so fast. His movement was almost inhumane.
Try to focus on aiming too much, and he has already blasted your throat out.
The captain approached the last police officer who stepped away from him with teary eyes, even though he still had his gun. He could still shoot, couldn't he? Well, not after he had seen how hard his dead colleagues had tried doing that too and met the same fates.
The police begged, "P-please let me go! I won't snitch on you… I promise!"
Yet, the captain continued to step closer while he moved backwards.
"M-my little sister is celebrating her birthday today—"
BANG!
The captain shot him in the forehead, and his body crashed to the ground. The passing breeze carried a strong scent of metal – blood.
Staring down at his corpse, the captain mumbled, "I lost mine. But you still have got one left in this world. How lucky."
Maybe if the officer didn't mention … little sister, the captain thought as he approached the yellow bus, he might have really spared him.
In the aftermath, the white-bearded man later rolled weakly out of his car after killing four of the ambushers. But the last one shot his arm while he was driving around. He moaned as he dragged his body towards his pistol, but the last guy blasted his head with the gun.
It was almost the same thing behind the rubble. The other ambusher had killed Jean, yet was also gravely injured, moaning silently as he pressed on his injury.
His other colleague rushed over to help him.
Before Jean exhausted his last breath, he had a bright smile for a dying man. He had said, "So… I'm not a coward after all. Father… must be proud."
Now, there remained no one else other than the driver and Mr Stamps. As the captain stepped into the bus, he pointed the gun at the driver… and his finger slowly pushed back the trigger…
"Don't kill him," the haggard, old woman's voice came through his earbud.
The captain muttered, "Uh?" while refitting the bud in his ear.
Inside the hospital ward, the old woman watched the live footage from a laptop brought by the nurse a while ago. From when the guys threw the spike strip on the road to the captain pointing the gun at the driver, she had been watching everything.
She told the captain, "I assume that man is the last one alive. Let him go, but with a message to deliver…"
… Soon, the captain replied on the bus, "Alright, ma'am."
He later lowered his gun and said to the driver, "You can go. Tell your boss when you get back to the station… that…"
The officer breathed erratically, reading the captain's lips.
"… That it was Kieran Holland who asked us to do this. And we all will soon come to turn ourselves in at the station."
The officer gasped in astonishment, his eyes wide. But nonetheless, he rushed out of the bus and ran down the road.
Afterwards, the captain shattered the iron gate's padlock by shooting it. He stepped inside, where Mr Stamps sat, ready to be taken away as well.
The captain pointed his gun at him. "I have come to take your life. Do you have any last words?"
Mr Stamps breathed out, closing his eyes. And then he shook his head, "No, I don't."
"Have a safe trip then," the captain said.
Mr Stamps smiled. "Thanks."
BANG! The bullet pierced his forehead clean and quick. And blood trickled down, after which his body rolled lifelessly to the ground. Afterwards, the last ambusher brought out a keg of petrol and poured it all over the bus's floor.
The captain shot the other guy by himself because he won't be able to live either way. As both of them jumped into the green field, the bus exploded behind them.
They had set it ablaze.
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A/N: Please vote with golden tickets and power stones. Thanks again, Dawayn_Heaston for the power stones! Love you!