"You get hit the hardest when trying to run or hide from a problem. Like the defense on a football field, putting all focus on evading only one defender is asking to be blindsided."
― Criss Jami
It had been days since Hunson kicked Fionna and Marshall out of the apartment, days since the two were forced into hiding and days since they had become the most wanted duo in America if not the world.
Marshall had spent most of the time in bed, sleeping off his wound. There had been no hide nor hair of Pierre, but a small fridge had been stocked with food that could last them a few weeks if they were careful enough. But Fionna was more concerned on where the older man could be.
Fionna had been warned not to step outside of the apartment door. Even fore a moment. They couldn't risk the danger. But sometimes when Marshall was asleep, she'd poke her head out and look out at the city. Every night, she could see she and Marshall's faces on the screens attached to the skyscrapers. She never stayed for long, but she hoped Cake and Lorn were safe.
It was New Years Eve and the sun was setting behind the skyscrapers. The days had been lonely and painful. To keep themselves from being found, Marshall refused to turn on any lights or have any candles lit. They lived off of scraps and Fionna wondered when they'd leave this life behind, end Marshall's father and finally live without the fear of being found and killed.
Fionna sighed as the sound of fireworks blasted into the sky outside of the abandoned apartment complex. She glanced up from her spot to where Marshall laid in the bed. As though sensing her gaze, he lifted his head and his eyes met hers.
Marshall motioned for her to come over to him. Fionna got up and walked over. She fell to her knees beside Marshall. The man sat up and leaned forward, their lips brushing against each others. Fionna closed her eyes and leaned in, kissing him fully.
The raven haired man brought his hand up and ran his fingers through her hair. Fionna traced her fingers up his arms and placed her hands on his bare, cold shoulders.
Fionna was pulled onto Marshall's lap and the man wrapped his arms around her. His hands slipped under her shirt and gently lifted the article of clothing off of her, briefly breaking their kiss.
The rest of Fionna's clothes found the ground and the cold air kissed her bare skin. Marshall pulled her down to the mattress, turning them around so he hovered over her and kissed her collar bone, chest, breasts and stomach.
Marshall lifted his head and captured Fionna's lips with his. As the man rocked into Fionna, the blonde couldn't help but feel that this time was different. There was sweetness besides the want of her body, a need along with the gentle kisses and caresses that showed how much the man really did care for her deep down hidden under the rough mask he wore.
Hours later, darkness had set in and Fionna's eyes had to adjust to the light that poked in from the boarded up windows thanks to the night life.
Marshall laid on her, his breath heavy with sleep. His arms wrapped around her in a protective embrace and moving from that spot was the last thing Fionna wanted to do. The fireworks had long ended and morning would be coming soon.
Fionna let her mind wander as she played with Marshall's hair. His wound sort of healed, but it didn't look good. 'Where are you, Pierre?' Even Marshall was worried over the old man's absence. He should have been there by now. But the old man was no where to be seen. And with no other communication, there was no way to know if he was safe or not.
Marshall sighed in his sleep and rolled off of the young female. She sat up, unable to sleep at all. She knew she should, but she couldn't bring herself to close her eyes and drift off to slumber.
The blonde pulled some clothes on and opened the front door. Cold air rushed in and she bit her lip in attempt to keep herself from shivering.
Fionna stepped out of the safety of the apartment and walked over to the window she loved to glance at when she could every other night.
The city seemed to be asleep, yet the lights still shone on and firecrackers could still be seen going off in the streets. The giant were off and Fionna leaned against the window's frame, sighing.
She could hear footsteps come to the front door but she chose to ignore them. Fionna could feel Marshall's eyes on her back and a smile tugged at her lips.
That moment of serenity was gone when frantic footsteps ran at her and Fionna found herself being tackled out of the way of the window just as a bullet went flying in.
The blonde felt the air get knocked out of her and Marshall, who now wore jeans, propped himself up and pulled them out of harms way.
"Are you crazy? I told you to stay in the apartment!"
"I'm sorry!"
More bullets rained through the complex and Marshall ducked inside of the apartment. He came back with a bag full of supplies and clothes that he had forged together in case of an emergency. He threw Fionna her boots in which she quickly pulled them on.
The bullets had stopped and Fionna wondered if maybe their attacker left. Marshall pulled the blonde to her feet and they tip toed down the stairs, the raven haired man in the lead.
When they reached an open area, Marshall would poke his head through and glance around. The whole apartment buzzed with silence. Sometime, a bullet could be heard somewhere in the building. Sometimes up high, sometimes down low.
"Sniper." Marshall breathed in disgust. The raven haired man inched closer to a window but stayed in the shadows. Fionna stayed closed but not too close as to break his concentration. His eyes roamed the outside and finally his eyelids narrowed and lips pulled up in hatred. "Anzalone. I should have known."
A shot rang from the floor above them. Fionna unconsciously reached out and held Marshall's hand. As though remembering he wasn't alone, the man's hand clasped the blonde's. "He's completely fucking with us."
Fionna gave him a confused look. The man lead her down more stairs, safe in the comfort of the shadows. "The Anzalone line was started by Giuseppe Anzalone. He disappeared sometime in the late 1950's. The FBI thought him to be dead, but he had started a family and laid low with the Sicilian Mafia. He was hired as an assassin and preferred the shotgun 'Lupara' method. But with time, it melted into not just that but with sniper rifles as well. When the Mafia took over the states, his heirs were hired to keep political machines in control. When my father gained his status, he hired the best of the Anzalones to be his head hitman. He never lets a target get away alive."
Fionna felt herself swoon, her heart thumping in her chest. Marshall looked down at her and saw the worry written all over her face. He gave her hand a squeeze. "That is, until now. We'll get through this, Fi."
Another shot. This time in the room below. "But we have to hurry if we want to keep that promise." They quietly rushed through the complex until they came across a boarded up door.
Marshall slid his fingers under the wood and a click was heard. The wood slowly creaked open to reveal a tunnel leading into the ground.
Neither Fionna or Marshall heard the man come into the room, but the blonde was blinded by bright flashes of light as a lean figured fired into the room.
Fionna rolled out of the way and behind an abandoned red couch. Marshall darted from the man, taking out his own hand gun and fired. A bullet kissed the skin of Marshall's hand and the man dropped the gun, shouting out in pain and fell to the ground. He ducked out of the bullet's way in time, but Marshall was cornered.
Their attacker was a tall and thin man. His eyes were grey and appeared even more lifeless thanks to the black curls that boardered his face.
Marshall's gun laid on the ground inches away from her. Did she really have a chance? Their attacker must know. A skilled killer like him wouldn't make that kind of error.
Reaching over, Fionna grasped the gun and stood up. She was right. The man swung around and fired. The blonde braced for impact, closed her eyes and squeezed her own trigger. Over and over and over. She felt metal graze her skin and she heard a satisfying thump.
Fionna opened her eyes to find Marshall had the man in a choke lock. The Anzalone heir fought to breathe and fight, finally elbowing Marshall in the stomach. Anzalone swung his gun around and smacked Marshall right in the face with the butt of his rifle. She could hear her lover's nose break and she didn't hesitate. Taking aim, she lifted the gun and fired. She hit the man right in the hand. Fionna fired again. She hit his other hand.
Anzalone cried out in pain as his gun dropped to the floor. Fionna knew she could kill him right then and there, but her finger wouldn't budge. She couldn't kill him. That wasn't who she was. Fionna's mouth felt dry. 'But it will have to be that way eventually.'
Fionna shakily stuck the gun into a pocket and walked over to Marshall who clutched his nose. "Come on." She took his hand and helped him up. They raced for the tunnel, their assassin's cries following them down as they raced into darkness.
Marshall shut and locked the door behind him. Hand in hand, the two descended into the black labyrinth below, down below the city's streets where their sanctuary could be found behind the rats and forgotten sewage.