Shiney New Story Idea-ish

One moment, the parking lot is quiet. Empty but for one car shoved in the corner, engine rusting, gas tank empty. And it’s alone. Surrounded only by the cement walls, the ramps going higher and higher…

The next moment, it’s noise. A crash, a gasp, and a screech of metal as the elevator doors are forced open. A metal crowbar is thrown up, lands on the cold grey floor. And then four hands reach skyward.

The first face to appear is a girl. Dark hair, desperate eyes. She pulls herself slowly, painfully out of the shaft. Then she turns, reaching for a boy a little older. She has to half drag him, and when he tries to walk, he limps.

They run a few steps, yet somehow end up standing still. Gasping for air as though they were about to run out.

“They’re going to find us,” the boy says.

“Yeah.”

“Five minutes. Maybe less.”

She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. Slowly sits down in a parking spot. “Yeah,” she says again. As if to prove the boy’s point, a truck rumbles past outside, and they both look to one of the narrow windows.

“We might be able to make it." But her voice is empty.

He says nothing.

And she takes another breath, reaches into her pocket. Pulls out the small handgun. “We’re not going to be able to fight them off.”

He pulls out his own gun. “There’s going to be so many.”

They’re speaking softly, as though worried about echoes. As though worried that the people following them don’t already know where they are.

And they stare at each other for a moment.

“I can’t,” he mutters.

She reaches out, grabs his hand. “Please.”

They both take another breath. Look around, as though there is still hope of an escape.

His hand shakes as he lifts the gun.

“Not the face,” the girl says. “They’ll release pictures.”

“Gotta look pretty for our last pictures, yeah?” His smile is bitter.

“No,” she whispers. “Iza. She’ll probably see. ”

“Oh.” He nods. “I… I better aim then. It’s hard to...”

“Yeah.”

She presses her gun against his chest, hand shaking. He mirrors the movement, and they sit for a moment. Connected by the death waiting between them.

“It’ll be quick,” she says. “A minute. And then we’re free.”

“Calm. Quiet.”

They look at each other for several long seconds.

“I feel like I should make a speech,” he says weakly, nodding to the security camera in the corner. “A great meaningful one to give inspiration to... everyone.”

She looks like she’s considering a smile. “You mean you don’t want to spill your guts and tell me how I’m the greatest younger sister anyone could ever want and how you didn’t mean all the mean things you’ve ever said?”

“I totally meant them.” He swallows, and the façade breaks. “On… on three?”

She nods. Blinks hard. Another breath.

“One,” she says slowly. “Two.”

Long pause. Then, a whisper.

“Three.”

But neither of them move. They just stare at each other. Frozen.

“It only works if we—“ she starts. Now he is the one to close his eyes.

“Just a finger-twitch.” He mutters. “Easy. Okay.”

“On three,” she echoes. He squeezes her non-gun hand tighter. “One.”

“Two,” he says.

“Three.”

Her finger twitches a little, but still doesn’t pull the trigger. They both sit, as if frozen. Muscles not letting them do it.

He shakes. “I don’t—God. I don’t… I can’t. I can’t. I don’t want—”

“Me either.”

They’re surrounded, and they know it. They can hear the fist people on the lower level. There’s nowhere to go but up, and once up, they’ll be trapped.

She pulls her hand away from his, wraps it around his gun fingers. “Need me to—do us both?”

“It’ll be slower.”

“Probably.”

“I can do this.”

“Hey!” And it’s not either of them that is speaking now.

They can see the first few. Men in uniforms, approaching them. They don’t even have a second anymore.

There’s no countdown this time. It’s instinct. Panic. Desperation.

Hope?

Two gunshots echo for a long time in the cement tomb.