Chapter 215: Too High A Price
(JERICHO)
The air in the warehouse is growing thicker by the second, and the walls feel like they are closing in on me. The tension is escalating and I can’t avoid thinking about what might happen should Sawyer just put a little more pressure on that trigger. I try to catch Sasha’s eye to tell him to not give in. My mind races with all manner of thoughts, trying to figure out how they even got Tyler, and how we missed this play.
Then goes the sound of a metallic clang, followed by a grunt and the sound of flesh hitting flesh. I flinch at first then realize that Miles already reached the other side of the room. Did he find Tyler? And how many more people are we facing that we aren’t aware of? The fact that there may be more people here is a possibility. The thought of that makes me shudder. Peter’s head snaps up, and the gun slightly wavers from my temple.
"What’s going on up there?" he calls, eyes trained on Sasha.
Silence answers him, followed by a body that tumbles on the catwalk railing, crashing onto a stack of wooden pallets below. Another one of his allies’ unconscious form lies sprawled amid the splintered wood as blood trickles from his nose.
"Fuck!" Peter lets out a string of cusses and his grip loosens for a fraction of a second. Then a sudden thought creeps in my mind. If I’m going to save myself, this is the time. Then again I have to remind myself that he is the one who’s got the weapon, and should I fail, my brains will be splattered on this floor in a split second. Either way, I have to do something. Anything. I need to strike now that he is still distracted.
Acting purely on instinct, I drive my elbow into his solar plexus. The way a whoosh of air leaves his lungs is satisfactory, I must say. The gun goes off, shot deafening. I twist away and my fist connects with Peter’s jaw, which sends him staggering backwards.
"Sasha, now!" I shout.
Miles drops from the catwalk, lands behind Peter swiftly then wraps an arm around his throat, cutting his air supply. "Drop the gun." He growls, tightening his hold.
Realizing that he is helpless, Peter begins to claw at Miles’ arm, face turning red. He wheezes, gasping for air but Miles is relentless and presses on his throat harder. He soon realizes that he is only making things worse by fighting and he’s probably going to wind up dead like his son. Not so mighty now considering the way they marched in here. The gun clatters to the concrete floor.
"Tyler! We need to find Tyler."