Flatline - Murder | Mystery | Intrigue

Chapter 23

Emile 

“Good morning everyone, please take your direction from Joe and Eric. We will commence as soon as they have given your instructions,” Kay announced as a model stroked my arm. It wasn’t enjoyable, she reminded me too much of Kimberly, but since the damn photographer was fawning all over Kay, I didn’t tell the model to take a hike. 

It was petty, I knew that, but it frustrated the hell out of me that Kay didn’t pander to me like every other woman. I wanted to make her as jealous as I was, yet she seemed completely unaffected. She acted as if she didn’t c*m all over my face and d*ck less than twelve hours ago and just continued with work; business as usual. 

The rest of the suppliers and assistants had arrived along with all the paraphernalia they needed. Joe and Eric had a short conversation and then set up the equipment in front of the washing lines. A little boy, probably four or five years old, ran up to Kay. He was dressed in a green tee-shirt, blue jeans and was wearing a white pair of Nike’s. That was why my brand sold so well; despite having to live in such squalor, these communities loved owning branded clothes and shoes. It was a status symbol, perhaps the only kind they would ever have access to.

“Aunty, Aunty, what are you doing here?” the gap-toothed kid asked as he pulled at Kay’s pants. Kay was surprised as she hadn’t seen him running up to her. 

“Hey young man,” she said as she bent down to speak to him at his level, “we’re going to take some pictures here.” She smiled warmly, rummaging in her bag for something. She pulled out a bag of sweets. “I found this in my bag and I don’t have any more. Do you think you can share this with your friends over there?” she asked, gesturing to the cluster of children watching us with curiosity. 

“Yes, I can, Aunty,” he said with a slight lisp, a glint of excitement in his eyes. “Thank you, Aunty,” he said as she handed it over. He skipped away as if he had just found buried treasure. I smiled at the exchange, she had definitely made his day. Joe and Eric summoned the models and I was happy to get rid of the woman hanging on me. She was stunning, but everything she did seemed contrived and the same went for the rest of them. 

After two hours of pictures at the washing lines and a lot of me dodging models who weren’t in the shots at the time, Joe and Eric decided to move to the playground. It had a desolate air as if abandoned in an apocalyptic era. Sparse, dry grass and dusty red soil made quite a background as one model sat on the swing. Plastic littered the edges of the field and the lighter pieces of plastic bags floated in the breeze. Eric took pictures while Joe directed the scene. The rest of the models and assistants hung out on the merry-go-round. The kids had moved to the slide on the other side of the field while we used the swings and merry-go-round. 

I walked over to my car and my driver got out to open the door for me. 

“That’s ok Matt, I just need a couple of bottles of water,” I explained. I grabbed them and headed back. It would be a good way to start a conversation with Kay. She had been professional, but had basically ignored me all morning. 

“Here you go,” I offered as I walked up to her. She smiled and reached for it. “Is everything ok?” I asked. 

I caught some movement from the corner of my eye. Beyond the slide, two young men strode towards us, but something about the way they walked screamed danger. They looked determined. I turned to look over to the other side of the field where their eyes were focused and saw three more, two teens and a ten-year-old child, approaching from behind the swings. 

“Move,” one of them shouted at the kids on the slide and they scattered as he pulled a handgun. The other followed suit and lifted his weapon too. Everyone else was blissfully unaware and before I could even warn them, multiple shots rang out. I moved towards Kay and knocked her to the ground, covering her. Our crew was smack in the middle of the two sets of guys and caught in the crossfire. The last thing I saw was the ten-year-old lifting a semi-automatic weapon and returning fire.

*_*

Kay 

I had been studiously avoiding Emile all morning. I didn’t feel like playing games and competing for his attention. If he wanted those models he was welcome to them. We just needed to get through the day and then the rest of our interactions could be limited to emails. 

Eric and Joe were doing an amazing job, I caught a glimpse or two of Eric’s pictures; they were incredible. I was sure the end product would exceed our expectations. We moved over to the playground and everyone got to work. The models looked bored sitting on the merry-go-round, but they would be used to it by now. Most of their long days consisted of waiting in uncomfortable places or taking pictures in uncomfortable poses. 

I noticed Emile walking to his car. Was he going to leave? He soon returned with some water and offered me one. He was talking to me, but his eyes wandered to behind me and then widened. I didn’t have time to turn and look before he pushed me over and we dropped to the ground. My head hit the ground hard and I was a little dazed. I couldn’t figure out why he had done that until I heard an orchestra of gunshots. 

Emile was so heavy, I couldn’t move and he didn’t seem to be listening to me. I lifted his head and was shocked to find a trickle of blood coming from the corner of his mouth. He was unresponsive, but when I checked he still had a pulse, although it was slowing down quickly. 

Finally, I managed to wiggle out from under him and tried to find a wound. Blood blossomed from a hole in the right side of his back. My bag was still trapped under him and once I had managed to retrieve it I rifled through it to find something I could use to staunch the bleeding, but the best I could find was a handful of tissues. I grabbed them and cringed as I pushed down on the wound heavily. 

I stayed low to the ground and took in the situation. Joe, the assistants, and the models were running towards their vehicles, Eric was lying in front of the swings; I couldn’t see if he was wounded. Emile’s driver got out of the car and started making his way towards us, staying low too. The shooters were still at it, running and shooting at each other as if they were in a real war zone. Emile’s driver made it to us and I nodded at him. I hooked my handbag over my neck and shoulder. Then we each took an arm and half lifted, half dragged him along with us, still trying to keep low. I was still trying to keep pressure on the wound as well. Thankfully the car was not too far away and we lifted Emile into the back seat as gently as possible.   

“Please take him straight to the nearest hospital, there’s no time to waste,” I instructed the driver. 

“What about you?” he asked, clearly not happy about leaving me behind. 

“I’ll be right behind you in my car, I just need to get my friend. Please, he needs medical attention right now,” I replied. I felt responsible for this mess and needed to go get Eric before I went anywhere. He didn’t look happy, but he got into the driver’s seat and started the car. I watched them drive off for a second and then turned back to the field. 

Eric was still in the same place, but the shots seemed to have slowed down so I dropped to the ground and leopard-crawled over to him. I was extremely thankful that I was wearing pants as it was slow going and my knees and elbows really hurt after a while. I could hear shouting and the shooting started up again. There were more of them now, on both sides. 

Eric was lying on his stomach when I finally reached him. It took a huge amount of energy to flip him over, damn men and their enormous muscles. He didn’t flinch or groan and his chest wasn’t moving except for a bloodstain that grew bigger with every second. He had caught a bullet in the right side of his chest, where I imagined his heart would be. 

Tears streamed down my cheeks as I tried to find a pulse with shaking hands. There wasn’t one. It was my fault, I had to have this location and I had to have the best photographer. 

“I’m so sorry Eric,” I whispered as I closed his eyes. I was sure that image would haunt me for years, it would be added to my collection of trauma. 

I looked up and tried to assess the situation; I needed to get out of there fast. The gangsters had moved to the opposite end of the field and I wasn’t between them anymore. I rose and fell again; my left leg was numb. When I looked at it I found the lower part of my pants soaked with blood and then my calf started burning as if being pierced with a hot poker. 

Damn, it hurt so much. I had no choice but to move regardless of the pain. The area was volatile and it was impossible to stay there. I crouched and staying low, dragged myself to my car. I would be able to drive myself to a hospital before I lost too much blood. I felt my energy flagging; the adrenaline was wearing off. The car was visible and I started looking for the keys in my bag. I made it to the driver’s door when I heard the sound of a gun c*cking behind me.