Everlasting Flame

by Katelyn Anderson

  Chapter Sixteen

  It had been weeks since the mass gang killings. During that time, I had been alone in an apartment, my new home. I wasn’t allowed to leave. I wasn’t allowed to set foot outside my door. The agency was looking for me. Everyone made sure I was safe and out of the agency’s reach. I had to be caught on my own terms. I was so bored. I wanted to run. I wanted to jog. I was tired of being cooped up all day. I kept up my training but it was difficult when the only space I had was two rooms. I didn’t have a bag to punch or kick. All I had was air to hit.

  I had visitors on and off. It was awkward when Renée and Lorenzo kept running into each other. One usually left so they didn’t have to be in proximity of each other. It must have been a bad breakup but it wasn’t my business, so I never asked.

  Damian never dropped by. I was under the impression that Jacqueline was behind that. She didn’t want him to see me and put their family at risk. I was a wanted fugitive. I understood but I wasn’t happy about it.

  Lorenzo came on Damian’s behalf instead. It wasn’t the same but it was better than nothing. Lorenzo passed on messages and a birthday gift from Damian, a diamond pendant I wore every day; a crescent moon. Damian knew I didn’t like gold as a general rule where jewellery was concerned. I had always been a silver girl.

  Lorenzo’s birthday gift surprised me. He brought his tattoo artist to me. I now had a pair of detailed angel wings on my back, the same design as the mark left behind from the murders. It would be the permanent reminder of what I had done but they were beautiful. I loved them and had no regrets. It hurt quite a lot but in comparison to getting shot, it was minor.

  I was in the middle of eating dinner when I heard a knock at the door. I glanced up at the clock on the wall. It was past eight. My usual visitors came during the day, not this time of night.

  I slipped off the bar stool and took my steak knife with me. I held the knife behind my back and unhooked the metal chain from the door. I wasn’t taking any chances. Maybe a gun would have been better but the knife had been closer. Besides, I didn’t want to alert my neighbours with a gunshot. That was the last thing I needed.

  Cyrus was standing behind the door. His golden hair was tucked under his black leather jacket. It was tied back and hidden, giving the illusion that he had short hair. A smile touched his face when he saw me. That smile reached his eyes, making the ice melt. He didn’t ask to come in. He just strolled on through without an invitation.

  “You actually learned how to knock on a door. I’m impressed,” I mentioned snidely, shutting the door. “Why has it taken you this long to come and see me?”

  “I was busy.”

  “Busy being a jerk,” I mumbled, sitting back down to finish my dinner.

  “Nice tattoo.”

  I was wearing a top that exposed most of my back, which is why Cyrus noticed my new tattoo.

  “What do you want?” I snapped, flicking my hair back to cover what I could of the angel wings.

  “It’s time to make our move. These past few weeks, I’ve been spending what resources I have to arrange your entry into Flare. I acquired a two-sided coin which allows me to bring a guest. They’re very hard to obtain.”

  “Is Flare the name of the nightclub?”

  “Yes. The window of opportunity won’t remain open for long. We need to go, tonight.”

  “You want me to get into a fighting ring unprepared and get caught out? After I’ve been hiding out for this long? Splendid idea,” I bit back sarcastically, taking a swig of my juice.

  “They’ve stopped looking for you. They can’t find a trace of you, anywhere, because I’ve been keeping you under the radar. I taught you to always be prepared for anything. A few drunken thugs in a fighting ring should be no problem for you. They’re nothing like Kristof.”

  “That’s because Kristof is a pile of ash,” I muttered, repeatedly stabbing my leftover fatty bits with my knife. “Fine. Whatever.”

  “I thought you’d be happier.”

  I dropped my cutlery onto my plate with a loud clang. “You haven’t had any contact with me for weeks and just show up out of the blue. Excuse me for being moody.”

  I hopped down from the stool, having to stay clear from my shadow. Cyrus was closer than I thought. I shoved my dirty dishes into the sink, filling it halfway with a dash of dishwashing liquid. I left the dishes soaking in the sink. I couldn’t be bothered cleaning up right now.

  I leaned up against the kitchen counter with folded arms, staring Cyrus down with the best hostile look I could muster.

  “You could have at least called me,” I finally said.

  “I was giving you space, remember.”

  “I didn’t need space. I needed you.”

  There was a touch of silence after I spoke. I hadn’t meant for that to sound so romantically desperate. I thought about it a little more during that quiet moment and felt my cheeks slowly turn red with each heartbeat. It’s because I missed him. I had missed that sweet honey scent. I had missed gazing into that handsome face, watching his Arctic eyes melt with each blink. I had missed feeling his strong hands when he had me pinned to the ground during our training. It was as close to intimacy as I got with him. It was the only time he was so close to me that I could breathe him in.

  I nearly slapped my cheeks to snap out of it. Almost.

  “You didn’t even bother showing up for my birthday. That was pretty low, even for you,” I mentioned curtly, trying to steer clear from my ever wandering mind.

  I was trying to keep a straight face. I was trying to keep my breathing even and my heartbeat steady. It was hard to pull off when Cyrus was standing so close to me.

  “I have something for you but you have to close your eyes first,” Cyrus said, gently prying apart my folded arms so I looked less angry and tense.

  “What? So you can cuff me and drag me out the door to carry out your master plan? Not happening.”

  “Just close your eyes. Trust me.”

  My eyes narrowed suspiciously. There was nothing menacing about his expression or posture. He seemed genuine enough. I couldn’t help but feel anxious. I blew a strand of hair out of my face and tapped my toes, wondering, trying to figure out his angle. I couldn’t work it out.

  “Fine,” I said in defeat, closing my eyes. “This better not be a trap.”

  His hand cupped the side of my face. Before I knew what was happening, Cyrus’s lips met mine. My body melded into his as I gave into my first kiss. I got lost in him. He tasted like honey, so warm and sweet. His magic poured through me, splattering raindrops all over my skin. I felt his longing. I felt his desire hit me like a scolding wave.

  I nearly forgot how to breathe and had to pull away for air. My eyes fluttered open for just a second before Cyrus decided to kiss me again, this time with more passion.

  I wanted more. I wanted so much more. He came here with a different purpose. We had been distracted by other desires. I wanted to continue that distraction but I pulled away before things got out of hand.

  “Not right now,” I breathed weakly. Trying to speak past my thudding pulse was almost impossible. “You came here for something else.”

  Cyrus’s hand stayed resting on my face, his palm cupping my cheek, his fingers tangled in my hair. His other arm was firmly wrapped around my waist, pressing me into him. His left hand was touching my lower back beneath my shirt. He drew soft circles with his fingertips against my skin. I could feel his body heat radiating from underneath his jacket. I wanted to take his jacket off and snuggle into that warmth.

  “Mmm, you’re right. I’ve just wanted to do that for the longest of times,” he murmured, pulling away from me. His eyes seemed to lose focus when he gazed back at me. He was trying so hard not to give into temptation.

  I could still feel his hand cupping the side of my face. I could still taste honey on my lips. I could still feel rain splatters soak my skin, the coolness of his magic. He wasn’t the only one trying to resist picking up where we left off. I wa
s dizzy. My head felt heavy. I had to slow down my heart rate and breathing to something normal before I ended up falling on him. I was afraid that if I touched him again, there wouldn’t be anything stopping me from going all the way.

  “Why does my head feel so heavy?”

  “That would be my fault,” Cyrus said, stepping away from me so we weren’t as close. “Dane’s right-hand man is telepathic. I’ve put a temporary block in place to protect your thoughts since I don’t have the time right now to teach you how to keep your mind safe on your own.”

  “Okay,” I breathed.

  I was still finding it rather difficult being alone in a room with a man who just kissed me. It was hard to concentrate without having flashbacks.

  “Let me grab a jacket. I’ll need to cover up my tattoo,” I said, moving away from him to slip into my bedroom. I hoped he didn’t follow after me and stayed where he was. The last thing I needed was him in my room, especially after what happened just moments ago.

  “Don’t bring any weapons. You’ll be fighting barehanded.”

  “That’s if they’ll let me into the ring,” I called out, slipping into my jacket. It sat below my waist. I did up the silver buttons and brushed down the black sleeves to get rid of stray hair strands. This was my favourite jacket so there was no way I would be getting blood on it. I would take it off before entering the ring, showing off the tattoo. It wouldn’t take long for the agency to come after me once I revealed the angel wings on my back.

  I tied up my hair into a high ponytail and quickly put some makeup on. Foundation and eyeliner, that’s all I had time for.

  The scent of honey still lingered around me even though Cyrus was nowhere in sight. It was going to take all my restraint not to go back out there and kiss him, to feel that wonderful desire consume me. I had never felt so strongly about someone like this before. Was it love or just lust? I wasn’t sure. I wasn’t sure if I would ever know. This feeling was intoxicating. I had been so angry at him for not coming to see me these past few weeks, and now I was head over heels for him. What the hell was up with that?

  “Good to go?” Cyrus asked me when I finally gained the courage to step out of my room.

  I nodded, not trusting my voice. I had no idea what would come out if I spoke, if it would be a squeak or something I wouldn’t be able to take back.

  Cyrus must have known exactly how I was feeling because there was a grin on his face. I had never seen him smile at anything. He looked absolutely gorgeous, breathtaking in fact. That smile made his arrogance melt away. All that was left was a handsome face gazing back at me. There was a warmth to him I hadn’t seen before, a kindness that was always shadowed by his usual jerk persona. Maybe I had finally lost my mind. I always did find him attractive but this was new.

  “Did you like your belated birthday gift?” he asked me, that devious grin still plastered to his face. It made him look so much younger and innocent.

  My cheeks grew hot.

  I avoided eye contact when I went for the door, staring at my feet as I slipped into my boots. I zipped up the sides, letting out quiet and steady breaths to ease my nerves. I felt so giddy. I never thought Cyrus out of all people would have this effect on me. I rolled back my shoulders before glancing up at him, grabbing the keys to my apartment off the hook.

  “I honestly don’t know how to answer that question. It was good. Really good,” I replied, the nerves visible in my tone. My voice shook a little. Maybe it was eager anticipation or I was just that nervous around him.

  There had always been a spark between us ever since we met. Now it was a burning flame of desire. I couldn’t stop staring at him. It was like the whole planet stopped moving and the only important thing left was him, and only him.

  Cyrus’s hand touched my lower back as he escorted me out of my apartment. His arm fell to his side the moment we stepped out into the hall. I think it was because he felt me tense up.

  We waited for the elevator, watching the number on the wall gradually get smaller. My hand brushed by his. I expected him to flinch and move away but he surprised me. He intertwined his fingers with mine. He held my hand with no hesitation.

  “Who are you and what have you done with Cyrus?” I questioned him with a raised eyebrow, catching his eye.

  I swear Cyrus had been abducted by aliens and replaced. This wasn’t the same Cyrus I knew. His Arctic eyes were different and no longer covered in ice. They were a stone grey, to hide his immortal identity from the public. I had never seen his normal eye colour. He proudly flaunted what he was but not tonight.

  “I’m still here. I’m just being more approachable,” he replied, gently squeezing my hand. “I can quite happily revert to my old ways if you’d rather–”

  “No, no. This is fine. Honest,” I interrupted him. “It’s just not what I’m used to.”

  The elevator dinged and slid open its doors. Cyrus and I went in at the same time, still holding hands. I leaned my head into his shoulder and closed my eyes. There was no doubt about it. It was definitely him. Nobody else could mimic that sweet honey scent or the splattering rain effect of his magic. I couldn’t help but wonder what brought this on. I had never seen him like this. Cold and unloving were what I was used to. He had always been so hard on me, pushing me like no one had ever pushed me. He never held back. He was harsh, never caring or soft.

  “Why are you being so nice to me?” I couldn’t help but be suspicious. I stayed where I was, holding his hand and snuggling into him as the elevator descended.

  “In all honesty, I don’t know what’s going to happen once the agency sinks their claws into you. In case we don’t see each other in a long time, I want your last memories of me to be good ones.”

  “Are they going to lock me up?”

  “They’ll just keep a very close eye on you. It will make it that much harder to see you.”

  “Why?”

  “Renée and I are on their most wanted list.”

  “Because of the resistance?”

  “Partially. I think they’ve worked out what I am. Nobody wants a Dream Shuffler as their enemy.”

  “How did you manage to work your way into the inner circle of the underground fighting ring if you’re on the agency’s most wanted list?”

  “My charm,” he said, tone overflowing with sarcasm. “Manipulation and deception.”

  “Is that what you’re doing to me now?”

  Cyrus’s hand slipped from mine. He held my face with both hands. “I am not manipulating you nor am I deceiving you. This may look like a charade but that is not the case. This is very much real,” he said, stroking my cheeks. “I’ve always been fond of you, Joan. You weren’t the only one who felt that spark. It was very hard to ignore. You were young when I first met you. It seemed right to wait until after you were eighteen.”

  I placed my hands over his and gazed into that sincere face. He looked so different. It wasn’t the fact that his hair seemed short because it was tied back and hidden under his jacket, or the fact that his eyes were stone grey as opposed to the usual iciness. That mask of arrogance he wore was gone. He was an open book and wasn’t hiding anything from me.

  “Understandable,” I murmured, letting go of his hands and easing out of his hold when the elevator doors opened. “You should have told me sooner or visited me when I needed you. These last few weeks have been hell. Yeah, I was mad at you for making me go through that thing with the Russians on my own and abandoning me in this apartment. I felt more alone than ever, even though I had Renée and Lorenzo visit. They weren’t you. I wanted you.”

  “I’m here now,” he said as we entered the lobby, slipping his hand into mine. “And I’ll be here for you until my heart stops beating.”

  “No need to be so dramatic. I’m afraid enough as it is. Death is the last thing I want to think about.”

  We stepped out onto the street, walking hand in hand down the sidewalk. Streetlights bathed the area in a white glow. The wind felt cold on my face. I was gla
d I decided to wear a jacket. I wasn’t used to being so exposed to the elements, not after spending the last few weeks locked in my apartment.

  It looked like we were walking to the club. I came to that conclusion when we passed Cyrus’s car and he kept walking.

  The night sky was clear. I couldn’t see the stars. There was too much light pollution. Laughter and music filled the city, as did the whoosh of cars that drove past. The music from different bars and clubs mingled together. People crowded the sidewalk. The city was buzzing. I had never been out at night. It was similar to daytime. There was no such thing as peaceful and quiet. There were always people in sight. You were never alone.

  “What you said before was most curious,” Cyrus said quietly, keeping his voice low so only I would hear him.

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “Death is closer to you than you think.”

  I felt my skin crawl. “Elaborate.”

  Cyrus seemed to pause for thought or maybe I was just overlooking the short break in the conversation. “Assassins are the bringers of death. That’s all,” he replied, running his finger over my knuckles.

  “Is it even safe for me to be walking out in the open like this?” I asked, changing the subject.

  “I told you they stopped looking,” he said, referring to the agency.

  “Why did they stop? They don’t stop for anything without a good reason.”

  “They were chasing a ghost. They couldn’t find you. They started to think you didn’t exist. They only had a face, no name, nothing at all. You may be in the system but you weren’t registered to any schools, hospitals, the list goes on.”

  “Doesn’t that raise immediate flags?”

  “Not if you play your hand right.”

  “If they torture me when they capture me, the cat will be out of the bag and they’ll kill me.”

  “There won’t be any torture. Despite Dane’s reputation, he’s a honourable person. You did the agency the biggest favour imaginable. Dane will treat you with respect.”

  “If I play my hand right,” I reiterated.

  “Precisely.”

  We reached a long queue of people. They were all lined up on a red carpet, surrounded by stanchions that curved like a snake to accommodate the popularity swarm. A green neon sign flashed in beat with the music that was blaring from the club. This was Flare. It was popular and would take ages to get in.

  Cyrus walked straight up to the bouncer, bypassing the queue. The crowds’ annoyance towards us was obvious. I could feel the heat of their eyes scorch us. Cyrus’s hand gripped mine tighter when I was about to let go. He made it so I couldn’t.

  “She underage?” the bouncer asked, eyes narrowed suspiciously.

  Cyrus made a silver coin dance between his fingers, rolling backwards and forwards. He kept the face of the coin hidden from the prying crowd and only showed the bouncer.

  “She won’t be drinking. You have my word. We have other plans,” Cyrus assured him.

  The bouncer let us through without arguing the matter. That coin held more power than anyone knew.

  There were so many flashing lights. Reds, greens, blues and purples. A smoky haze from machines filled the club. Dubstep music rattled my bones. It was so loud. Everyone was dancing. There were women in cages spinning on poles. They were dressed in raunchy outfits I would never be caught dead in. All I could smell was alcohol, perfume, and sweat.

  Cyrus weaved through the crowd, keeping me close to him. It felt like my eardrums were going to burst. My hearing was sensitive. This was too much to handle. I had learned to block out gunfire but I hadn’t been exposed to such loud music before. I hoped it wasn’t like this in the fighting ring or else we would have a problem. I’d be too disorientated to fight.

  The stairwell we walked down was empty. It was nice not having to bump into people. Getting through that sea of people was a nightmare. I didn’t want to come here again, if it could be avoided. I didn’t do well in crowds.

  Cyrus knocked three times on the door at the bottom of the stairs. He was no longer holding my hand. So this is where he had learned to knock. I kept that thought to myself but smiled on the outside.

  The slot at the top of the door opened. A pair of chocolate brown eyes stared back at us. Cyrus held up the coin from earlier between his thumb and finger, showing both sides to the person behind the door. The coin was entry for two.

  The door swung open with a loud creak. Cyrus gave me a gentle push to go first and followed close behind me. It was clear to see he wasn’t going to let me out of his sight, not for a second.

  This area was a lot quieter, even if it was filled with people cheering. I could still hear the music from upstairs but it was a distant hum. Being here was bearable. I was happy about that. The room held over fifty people. The ring was a cage. Two men were already having a match. People clung to the metal wiring, cheering for the person they wanted to win. One hand held beer bottles, the other held the cage. They were multitasking. I was impressed. There were no flashing lights in here, just a normal yellow tinged lighting arrangement.

  One of the men fell down after a punch to the face. He didn’t get up.

  There was a mixture of cheers and booing. The cage stopped people from throwing things.

  The unconscious man got dragged out of the arena, leaving a small dribble of blood behind. He stirred ever so slightly on the way out. At least he wasn’t dead. I didn’t want this to be a fight to the death arena. I wasn’t in the right mindset to kill anyone.

  “Who else wants a piece of me?” the man in the arena called out, ripping off his shirt. Small scars and bruises covered his skin. You could tell he had been in a lot of fights and had broken bones. He was a regular.

  When I compared him to Kristof’s stature, he was nothing but an ant. His muscles were average. He was lean. His lip was cut up from previous fights and his brow was slicked with sweat. His shoulders rose and fell at a steady rate. He wasn’t exhausted and had a lot more energy to spare.

  “Nobody? Are you all too afraid of being knocked out cold?” he taunted the crowd, smacking his chest. He was being cocky and arrogant, radiating a bring-it-on vibe.

  “He won’t last ten seconds with you,” Cyrus murmured in my ear. “Go ahead. This is your chance.”

  “Five,” I said, smiling up at him.

  I shrugged off my jacket and handed it to Cyrus. He slung it over his shoulder and gave me an encouraging smile. I have faith in you, the smile said.

  “Is the man who has ties with the agency here?” I asked.

  “Yes. I can’t point him out but he’s here. He’s just noticed you and your tattoo. Undoubtedly he’s alerting Dane as we speak.”

  “Good,” I murmured. “How long do I have?”

  “Less than ten minutes,” Cyrus guessed. That was good enough for me.

  I cleared my throat before walking up to the ring. “I’ll fight you,” I said, voice confident and loud so the man inside could hear me over the racket.

  The room went quiet after my proposal. All eyes fell on me in disbelief.

  A roar of laughter filled the room after that touch of silence. They weren’t taking me seriously. I had been in this situation before with the Russians. The only difference was they had been reduced to a pile of ash and this room would see the light of day.

  “What? Scared you’ll be beaten by a girl?” I announced when the laughing stopped. I never dropped eye contact with the man in the ring.

  “Women aren’t allowed in the ring,” the man said, wiping the blood off his lower lip with the back of his hand.

  “Humour me. Nobody else here is willing to fight you.”

  “How old are you?”

  “Eighteen.”

  The room laughed again. The man was probably about twice my age. He looked it.

  “I remember when I was eighteen and did stupid things. It’s your funeral, princess. I can see it in your eyes that you won’t change your mind. If you want a good ass kickin
g because nobody else will give you one, then by all means, enter the ring. I won’t hold back just because you’re a girl.”

  “I don’t expect you to,” I said, rolling back my shoulders on my way into the ring. I clicked my neck from side to side. He was going to regret calling me princess.

  The room was so quiet and still. All I could hear was a rhythm of ecstatic heartbeats and breathing as they all watched intently. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind that everyone thought I would fail miserably. I was about to show them what I was truly capable of.

  “There’s no shame in backing out. I don’t want to ruin your pretty face,” the man said, changing his stance. He was ready to begin.

  “I’d be more worried about your own face once I’m through with you,” I replied.

  I stood tall and kept my arms folded behind my back. I didn’t want to reveal my fighting style just yet. I wanted to observe the way he moved before carrying out my knockout. I did tell Cyrus five seconds when he said ten. Was I obligated to keep my word? Or did I need to stall until the agency got here?

  I dodged the first few punches with ease by moving out of the way, keeping my hands crossed behind my back. I felt the rush of air from the force of his strikes. He wasn’t messing around. Neither was I. I decided to stall.

  I was beginning to irritate him. His punches became more wild and less calculated. He yelled wordless cries of frustration. He was lashing out because he was unable to make his mark or touch me.

  I had done this dance with Cyrus many times before. He taught me how to predict an attack by watching the way opponents moved. I could do this all night if I had to. The man would wear himself out first. He was already becoming sloppy.

  His face twisted into a world of hurt when I kicked him between the legs. I heaved myself off the floor with as much strength as I could muster and delivered a high side kick to his face, knocking him over by the brute force of my blow. He was too busy spluttering in pain to get off the ground. He spat out several teeth that clunked across the floor in bloody blobs.

  The room was silent and had been for the entire fight.

  “Who... are... you...” the man I fought said in between strangled breaths, finding it hard to focus on my face. He was a few seconds away from passing out.

  “The Angel of Death,” a smooth voice cut across me before I had the chance to come up with a witty retort. That smoothness gave me chills. I knew that voice.

  There stood the man who was there the night my parents died. There stood the man who issued the kill order for me and both my parents. There stood the man who was responsible for dragging out this war. The CEO of the company, Dane Stevens.

  Dane looked so out of place with his expensive suit attire. Everyone else was ragged in comparison to him. His sandy blonde hair was neat and tidy. His grey eyes were colder than Cyrus’s. They were soulless pits. Authority surrounded him. The gravitational pull of his authority was so great that half the room moved to the other side to avoid him, some even fled. Cyrus stayed but blended in with the leftover onlookers. I avoided looking at him. I couldn’t bring any attention to his presence.

  “I’ve been looking for you,” Dane continued, ignoring the fleeing room. He only had eyes for me and nobody else. There was a gun in his hand, hanging loosely by his side.

  “I missed that memo,” I said, keeping my nerves intact.

  Dane had come alone. It seemed he didn’t have time to bring backup.

  “I have no intention of fighting you. I’ll come quietly,” I assured him.

  “You can understand my scepticism,” Dane replied, gesturing to the unconscious man on the floor with a tilt of his head.

  “Oh? Him? He deserved it. I get annoyed when people call me princess.”

  A smile tugged at the corner of Dane’s lips. I think he liked me. My sass had a habit of making me look bold when on the inside I was freaking out. My sass was my armour and shield.

  “Then what should I call you?” Dane asked, subtly trying to get information out of me. I’d bite.

  “Joan. My name is Joan.”

  “Joan...” he repeated, voice trailing off in thought.

  My name didn’t ring any bells. I could see it in his face.

  “Would you mind accompanying me to the agency? I’d like to ask a few questions.” This was Dane’s nice approach. If I denied and refused, this would go down an ugly path.

  I had a vivid image in my head of Cyrus burning ants with a magnifying glass and Dane nuking the entire forest, thanks to Renée’s analogy. I had to be careful. Dane was just one man but he made the entire world nervous. I doubt I’d win in a fistfight with him. He had broad shoulders. I knew there were firm muscles lurking underneath that suit and years of experience.

  “Like I said before, I have no intention of fighting you. I’ll come quietly,” I told him.

  “Good. I didn’t want to have to resort to using this,” he said, holding up the gun before slipping it into his inner jacket pocket. “I will if I have to.”

  “You won’t have to. Promise.”

  I had to be on my best behaviour. If Dane resorted to violence and made me bleed, I would heal in front of him and it would be all over. I needed to be careful. I needed to be perfect. I needed to play human to stay alive. I prayed I wouldn’t mess up. A mistake would lead to my death. I didn’t come this far to fail. I would make it out alive if it’s the last thing I do.