‘It’s over, Mac.’
Mac thrust his head back, his skull catching Sam above the eye, re-opening the gash that was held together by two strips of tape. Blinded as blood gushed over his eyeball, Sam stumbled back and Mac charged, ramming his shoulder into Sam’s stomach and driving him into the opposite door. It swung open and Mac hurled Sam into the metal railing that surrounded the hospital bed. The impact caught Sam in the centre of his surgically repaired spine, and he rolled over backwards before dropping hard onto the tiles.
‘Get up,’ Mac demanded, stomping around the bed. Sam pushed himself to his knees, but Mac drove a solid boot into his ribs. Then another.
And another.
He threw one more vicious kick, but Sam blocked it. Blind with murderous rage, Mac threw another hard right, but Sam blocked it and instinctively drove his elbow into Mac’s jaw. Stumbling backwards, Mac spat out a tooth, smirked, and then charged once more.
In the cramped room, Mac unloaded a flurry of strikes, and Sam tucked his head in and raised his arms, absorbing the blows. As Mac tired slightly, he drove in with another hook, but Sam deflected it, drove his knee into his adversary’s ribs and then stepped to the side.
‘I won’t fight you, Mac.’
‘You don’t have a choice.’ Mac swung the metal drip stand, catching Sam in the hip. Stumbling backwards, Sam fell against the large, rectangular glass window that afforded the nurses a look into the room. Mac charged and as he approached, he leapt off his feet, slamming into Sam and sending them both careering through the panel. They collapsed onto the tiles, falling onto the shattered glass that had beaten them to the ground and they both groaned in pain. As Mac hit the ground, the SIG Sauer P226 spilled from his belt, landing among the shards. As both men worked to get their breath back, Sam could hear the approaching rumbling of the ARU’s boots as they made their way towards the ward.
That meant Lucy had made it outside.
She was safe.
Mac lunged onto Sam, a thick, sharp shard of glass in his hand and he drove it towards Sam’s throat. Sam managed to raise his arm, blocking Mac with his forearm, but Mac had the leverage and he climbed on top of Sam, pressing down with all his might. Sam strained his neck back, the blade only a centimetre from his Adam’s apple and he looked Mac dead in the eye.
Mac said nothing.
Sam tried to drive his knee into Mac’s spine, but Mac had him pinned.
A smile crept across Mac’s charred face as the blade lowered, piercing the skin of Sam’s throat, a trickle of blood falling out.
A gunshot echoed through the corridor.
As if hit by a train, Mac flew to the right, relinquishing his hold on Sam. The blade sliced across Sam’s throat, but there wasn’t enough pressure to cause anything but a slight cut.
Sam sat up in a panic, looking back towards the door where a member of the ARU was on his knee, rifle drawn up to his eye.
He was reloading. Sam leapt to his feet, standing in front of his fallen foe.
A man he’d once regarded a friend.
‘Hold your fire,’ Sam demanded. He turned and dropped to his knees, examining the bullet wound that had ripped through the top of Mac’s chest, shattering his collar bone. Through gritted teeth, Mac was groaning in agony, his hand pressed against the wound to stop the bleeding. Sam reached down underneath Mac’s arms and helped him to his knees, uttering that he would be okay.
But as Sam tried to haul him to his feet, Mac refused to move, dropping back onto his knees, his head bowed in defeat.
There was no fight left in him.
Sam knelt in front of him and rested his hand on the side of Mac’s face, cupping it tenderly. Mac slowly lifted his head, locking eyes with the man he’d hated for over a decade.
A man he’d held responsible for all the pain that had created the monster he’d become.
But the truth was, Sam didn’t know.
Wallace had told him Sam had left him for dead. Hadn’t cared.
But he had. He still did.
With his energy levels dropping through blood loss, Mac slumped his head forward and pressed it against Sam’s. Their bond had been reforged, albeit only slightly.
‘I’m sorry, Mac. I’m so sorry,’ Sam said quietly. ‘This time, I’m taking you with me.’
Mac shook his head and pushed himself back. Sam looked at him with confusion.
‘All I’ve known for ten years is pain. Pain and anger.’ Mac let go of his shoulder and pressed his arm to the ground behind him. ‘I’m sorry, Sam. But without it, I don’t exist.’
‘Mac, what are you saying?’
Without answering and with his final strands of energy, Mac pushed himself to his feet, drawing the handgun from behind him and aimed it directly at the armed men who had lined the corridor behind Sam. Despite Sam’s cries of horror, three gunshots exploded behind him and the bullets ripped through Mac’s chest, sending him jolting backwards before collapsing onto the glass.
Sam scurried across the sharp shards, ignoring the pain and leant over Mac.
With his chest a bloodied mess and his eyes closed, Sam knew he was dead, but he still called out his name. Guilt shook through his body and he rested his hand on his friend’s chest, the devastation of what had happened to him hitting with as much velocity as the bullets that sent Mac to his grave.
Sam began to cry and as he was surrounded by the ARU, he pulled the dog tags from his fallen comrade’s neck, clutched them in his blood-soaked hand, and allowed himself to be marched back to his impending incarceration.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Singh had watched with bated breath as Lucy had emerged through the emergency door of the
