The First Shot Novels & Stories

The scent of cigar smoke and aged whiskey lingered in the air. And then I pulled the trigger. The first shot was deafening. The gun's recoil startled me, but I held my ground. The bullet found its mark, tearing through the heart of the man. My father's stern expression softened just a fraction, a hint of approval in his eyes. The man's death was instant. "Good, Vincenzo," he said. "Now, remember, the first shot is the element of surprise. It's the one that counts. Your enemy won't see it coming."

I stopped, hands slightly raised in surrender, because the look on their faces when they expect an easy trophy is deliciously predictable. "Don't move!" they said again, and then someone fired. The bolt missed me again, this time slamming into a taillight of the idle car and shattering red into the night. Tiny stars of glass rained down and pricked my fingers. For a second, all of us paused as if to admire the violence.

My gut had been dulled recently — clouded by shame, by Louisa's words, by the fact that Rebel was more than just some damaged girl. But as I swung the lock on the apartment door shut behind me and headed towards the black car that waited across the street, the shift in the atmosphere was undeniable. I wasn't alone. I didn't flinch. I didn't reach for my gun. Not yet. I bunched my hand into my pocket, fingers against the cold of hidden steel there, and walked steady. The first shot came from the roof. Silenced, but I could feel the difference in air as the bullet whizzed by me, close enough to scrape the side mirror off my car. The glass snapped like a warning.

Isabella place her hand over my mouth so I can stop babbling. "Colour me curious." She whispers silently taking her hand from my mouth. "Who is the guy that got shot?" She finally asks after a whole thirty agonizing seconds. "Uhm... Some Katnez... No... Kuzento..." I stutter over my words trying to remember what the police officer said.

After that, silence died. The first exchange of gunfire happened at the base of the east tower. Two guards appeared in the narrow stone corridor. One of them raised his weapon as soon as he saw us. I shot first — two short, controlled bursts. The first bullet hit his shoulder. The second entered his chest. He collapsed against the stone wall, leaving a dark trail behind. The second guard tried to take cover behind an old column. Harvey moved quickly along the other side of the corridor and fired twice. The man dropped.

Nicole looked at the clock in the room and said, “I’m kind of in a hurry so I’ll make my story brief and comprehensive. After breaking your heart, I owe you an explanation my darling Muhammad.” Muhammad tried switching on the radio on his belt, in hope that anyone on the other end could listen to the conversation if the signal was restored. If Maryam and he were going to die tonight, their death might as well not be in vain. The most important thing was revealing the real identity of The First One.

My pulse roared in my ears. Two men rounded the corner, masks pulled over their faces, rifles slung across their chests. They saw me the same instant I saw them. One barked a command and lifted his weapon. I fired first. The shot cracked like thunder in the hall. He stumbled, clutching his shoulder, and went down hard. The second lunged, fast, knocking my arm wide. The pistol skittered across the floor. I kicked, twisted, but he was stronger, a wall of muscle and black fabric. He slammed me back against the wall, his hand clamping over my mouth.

Sure enough. Was he scared? He didn't dare to be the first one to fight. He was afraid before the battle began. He was bound to lose! Just as everyone was sneering at him, he raised his hand and fired his first shot. Bang! The first shot fell. The first target on the dog's head immediately trembled. Did he hit the mark? Four to five hundred metres away! The handgun hit a very small target. Everyone was shocked. It had to be said that the target was incredibly small from Shu Sen's perspective, much less the target.

Then Liam fired. The first shot cracked through the storm, a flash of white muzzle-fire splitting the dark. The nearest goon dropped, his weapon clattering against the wet road. The circle erupted—guns drawn, shouts tearing through the rain. Sophia screamed as the glass behind her shattered, shards spraying across the seat. Liam didn’t stop.

But before I could speak, Damon’s voice cut through the noise. “Enough!” It should have silenced us. But the air was already too poisoned. That’s when the first shot rang out. Bullets shredded the silence, sparking against the rusted beams. We dove for cover, Damon dragging me down with him, his body shielding mine as concrete chipped around us. “Take cover!” Alice barked, her weapon snapping up. The enemy came from the shadows, faceless under their helmets, their fire relentless. The rookie froze, wide-eyed, until a bullet ricocheted off the wall inches from his head. He would’ve been dead if not for instinct, my body launching forward before I could think.