Signal

Before Elma could catch her breath, a pair of strong hands took her hand and violently shoved her back into the restaurant.

Too shaken for words, Elma felt her knees buckle themselves as she dropped to the floor. She could not believe half of what that was. Her head was a mess. She had never felt so close to death as she did right now.

Was she losing her mind, or was this really happening?

"Elma?" an unsure baritone voice sounded near her.

"No, no, no, no. Don't come any closer!" Her head bobbed about. She would not look at him.

"Elma, listen to me," the voice spoke again.

This time she did not move a muscle. Her body was hard as a rock. Her eyes were glued shut. If she was going to die right there, it was better not to see it coming.

"Listen up, Miss Gray," Riccardo yelled, impatiently. "Whatever you do, don't come out or lookout, okay?"

"Why?" she answered back, scarcely finding her tongue.

"I need to step out for just a minute."

Step out for just a minute, Elma thought. What was so casual about the ongoing shootout that he would mention stepping out so lightly? She could still hear the freaking shots charging up the air outside. There were frankly too many of them; too many guns on display out there. She had even started to feel dry patches in her throat added to almost running out of breath herself. Yet he could go out to witness all that? Did he have a death wish or something?

Elma opened her eyes to find herself alone. The door was slowly closing up which meant that Riccardo had waltzed right through it. She had wound her neck over to the left of the hall when something flew past her eyes.

"Fuck!"

Elma tucked her face between her palms as the metallic bullet smashed into the vast floor-to-ceiling glass window. Elma soon began to crawl on all fours as she made for a safe space which was pretty far from the exit. As she pushed deeper into the bistro, she felt her heart fly up to her throat in a way that made her choke on her spit.

She couldn't help thinking about how right Riccardo was for telling her not to dare look outside. If she had disobeyed, well, that bullet would have chopped its way into her skull forcing her brains out of there.

Elma moved forward and more forward putting in more speed and thanks to the Jean she was wearing, her knees were spared from bleeding out already.

Elma led out a gasp as she soon pulled beside a wall. The wall was a fat pillar that stood before the service counter.

Elma crept around it until her view was locked from being able to look out the see-through door and expanse of windows. Maybe it wasn't so great to dine in such a fancy restaurant after all. Was that it?

Elma brought her knees up to her chest, tugging tightly with her arms around her. Eyes closed, she could only pray that this was just a bad morning in Escades and the city was not so bad after all.

"The Police should be here soon," Elma said with shaky lips. "And Riccardo please don't die on me today. I only just got the job!"

***

Five more minutes and the gunshot sounds had still not broken off.

"Please don't die, Riccardo! Please don't die, Riccardo! Please… DON'T DIE!"

Elma repeated to herself as she could barely keep calm anymore. Her hands were not the only part of her body fidgeting at that point, her knees also. So, maybe instead of holding her jerking fingers about her head, they could function better holding her legs together instead. Her knees were slamming too hard to each other that she could feel the bruises warming up to her skin.

Suddenly, it got so quiet.

That was it? On the first day of her job, she already lost her boss.

Elma had no clue how to push back her tears. The waters burst out of her lids like warm water shooting out of a fountain. She was to blame for this, wasn't she? Her boss had lost his life while trying to protect her this day.

"I am so sorry, Riccardo."

"Riccardo?" Someone said back.

"Y-yes," Elma continued, sniffing back the tears. "He is my boss," — more sniffs "— but now he's dead and it's all my FAULT!"

Elma broke into a fresh wrap of tears as soon as she remembered him. He wasn't particularly nice to her, she thought, but he wasn't all bad either.

"You didn't have to die, Riccardo...."

Elma was about to trail off into sobbing some more when a thick voice broke into the moment.

"I am not dying any time soon, Miss Gray."

"Huh?" Elma opened up her eyes to see her boss staring back at her. "How are you—"

"Not dead?" Riccardo said with a pinch of his nose bridge.

Elma flew her hands up to her face and covered her mouth.

"Well, l am no chicken to get killed that quickly. Get up! We've got a plane to catch."

"A plane?" Elma's legs wobbled together as she made to get back on her feet. She was still scared about everything. "Wait, I think I might—"

Slump!

She fell back on the floor, panting a lot.

"What?" Riccardo looked down at her. "Now is not the right time to lose touch with your legs, Miss Gray."

"I - I know, but," Elma stopped there and tried to pick back up by using the pillar for support. She dropped again, and this time, Riccardo hauled her up in his arms, bringing her face too close to his chest.

What was going on? Elma felt her brain fry in that moment. His body cologne was what she could pitch her focus on and not at all on the sight of blood she could see spotting about his white satin shirt.

"Be sure not to open your eyes until I give the signal to do so, alright?" Riccardo said in an almost whisper.

Elma barely shook her head. Knotting her knuckles hard against his shirt, she gripped onto him for her dear life as he walked her towards the door.