Landfill

I could feel my skin against my chest growing tighter and tighter. My heart was going to implode and I was going to die. I shut my eyes, the tip of his knife pushed deeper; I felt the warmth of blood rush down my throat and down my chest.

I started to hyperventilate. I screamed and cried, "Stop! Please!"

But Shane didn't, I kept my eyes shut, my head swam. I was going to pass out. I had long fought the force to keep my hand away, I had put my hand to his chest, trying to push him away. It was no use, I was only digging my hole deeper; the knife was there and ready to slice into me deeper. And then, my hand slipped and was down to his gut, his belt; an idea popped into my head.

With all my might, I reeled my arm back, fist balled, I hit him between his legs. He made a grunt and stumbled back; my breathing was sporadic, and the knife was jetting from my throat, I pulled it out, and then cut the tape off of my arm. I stopped the blood rushing down my neck with my left hand and began to cut my legs free.

Shane staggered to his feet, and I did as well; my chest was covered in blood. I was panting, trying to slow my heart, he was grumbling, cursing at me; "You bitch!"

I just stared at him, the adrenaline coursing my veins; "Fuck you." I spat out; I licked my lips and tasted my own blood. I must've gotten some on my face. "I need medical attention," I panted. "I'm leaving, I'm taking Ryan with me."

Shane looked highly amused, "Really?"

"Yes, really." I affirmed. "This is all over. You got your money, and I'll make sure Ryan gives you all your goddamn drugs and money back!"

Shane stepped back, and then looked me up and down. "That's how it's gonna be?"

"Exactly."

Shane gave a small laugh, "Under one condition."

"What?" My heart had been easing, but was slowly rising again.

He put his hand to his back and pulled out a gun; a glock .45. My eyes widened; it was my turn to step back. "I have a gun, you have a knife. I'm willing to let you go if you kill him."

My automatic response was no. I vehemently shook my head, the knife trembled in my hands. I was shaking, light headed and exhausted.

"Then, you'll both die." He shrugged easily.

I turned to Ryan and cut the tape off his mouth; his eyes were widened, too. He gave a soft pant; "I'm sorry."

"Shut up," I growled, "Tell him where his shit is!"

Ryan looked at me with fear, "He has it! They caught me before I could even leave! They have it, Nikki!"

My jaw slacked and I looked back at Shane; he was smiling. "You have it? You piece of shit!"

My head was woozy; his smile disappeared. "Who are you gonna believe? The man with the gun or him?"

I didn't move; "I won't. I'm not...I couldn't live with myself."

Shane stepped closer towards us, he cocked the gun and aimed it at him; "Would you like to go first, or should he."

I shook my head, my body swayed, "No. No."

He pointed it at me, and raised his brows, "So?"

I tried to think, "Let me...let me think." I told him.

He kept the gun up, "15 seconds."

"Put it down!" Ryan growled.

Shane pointed it at him now, "I think I'll do you first."

I saw Ryan's eyes shoot to me; something in them made me move. I raised the knife and shoved it into Shane's side; he grunted, the gun went off and we fell over. The knife was stuck, and I had just toppled with him.

The gun had slid, and Shane grabbed my hair; "You're dead, bitch!"

I tugged the knife hard and it pulled out of him; I proceeded to shove it in his chest, where I thought the heart could be. Everything was fuzzy; I left the knife in him and rolled over onto the floor, looking for the gun under the hot lights. "Behind me!" Ryan shouted towards me, "It's behind me!"

I got to my knees, moving towards Ryan, but I could hear Shane getting to his knees. I got up and sprinted behind Ryan, looking for the gun; the light made it difficult; behind them, it was so dark. "I can't see!" I screamed this mostly to myself.

"Nick--!"

Ryan's voice was cut short, but I didn't look, I got to my knees an began to feel for it in the dark. It took a moment for my hands to find it and so I picked it up and turned back; Shane was on his knees, and he grunted, then fell over. Blood spilled out of him, like a river; the knife was gone.

I rushed over toward Ryan and then in front of him. Blood pooled in his lap and his mouth; "What happened?!"

Ryan's mouth bobbled, I spotted the knife in his lap, bloody; "He got me." It came out in a wet reply.

I grabbed it and began to cut Ryan loose. He staggered, and then fell onto the floor; tears filled my eyes, hot down my cheeks. I knelt beside him, "Ryan, c'mon, I need you to get up."

Ryan rolled and stumbled onto his feet; I helped him up. The blood was all over us, and I was more than certain we'd be in some trouble if we didn't leave immediately. We stopped short when we heard that familiar door creep open hard.