does it go?” Jake asked.
“More over here!” Fribush yelled from the tree line.
“So they went back to the city. Interesting choice,” Syd said.
“They probably thought it would be easier to hide there until they got in touch with Tyr,” Jake mused.
“Maybe they’ve already been picked up,” Kelly said. “Is there any way to find out?”
“I would have gotten a call,” Syd said. “Let’s split up. You and Maltz each take a car and wait for us on the other side of these trees.” Syd bent down and gazed through them. “Looks like there’s a road a few hundred feet away, it should show up on the GPS.”
“I’ll go with you,” Kelly said. “Have Kane take the car.”
“Kelly—” Jake said.
“Your leg is bothering you,” Syd said flatly. “Unless you rest it, you’ll be useless.”
“I’m fine,” Kelly insisted.
“You’re not. And part of the deal here is that I’m in charge of the unit’s health. You injure yourself more, it makes everyone’s life harder.”
“But—”
“It’s not a request, it’s an order,” Syd said.
The rest of the team stopped and looked up at her raised voice. Kelly’s cheeks burned. She glanced at Jake, who shrugged.
“She’s right, Kel. It’s not personal, it’s just—”
“Give me the keys.” Kelly held out her hand.
He started to say something else, then shut his mouth and handed them over.
Kelly turned on her heel and marched back to the car. Despite her best efforts, she couldn’t hide the limp. She fought back tears as she slid into the driver’s seat. The worst part was that they were right: she wasn’t capable enough to be here. From the look of things, she might never be able to do her job properly again. If their positions were reversed, she’d feel the same way: what was the point of having a partner who couldn’t keep up? And if she was this useless, what the hell was she going to do with the rest of her life?
There was a rap at her window. Kelly turned to find Maltz peering down at her. She wiped away the tears with the back of her hand. Great, she thought. Not only was she crying, but she was doing it in front of the only person more messed up than she was. She rolled down the window.
“Syd can be a pain in the ass.” Maltz bent over and crossed his arms on the window frame.
“She’s right,” Kelly said. “I’d hold them up.”
“Maybe.” He looked past her to where the others had vanished into the tree line. “It’s tough, huh?”
“Yes,” Kelly said. “It is.”
“Hang in there.” Maltz cuffed her lightly on the shoulder. “It’ll get better.” He turned and walked back toward the second car.
“Are you sorry?” Kelly blurted out.
He stopped and turned. “Sorry that I made it?”
She instantly regretted the question, but nodded.
“Every day. But what the hell, right?” He grinned at her. In spite of herself, Kelly grinned back. He tossed her a salute, then kept walking. Kelly watched as he got into the driver’s seat. In spite of everything, she felt better.
Eight
The automatic gunfire went on and on, but as far as Mark could tell no one had entered the store. They seemed dead set on making sure there were no survivors before risking it. The counter in front of him had been punctured by dozens of bullets; it was a small miracle he hadn’t been hit yet. He hoped Decker had been as lucky.
Mark had landed a few feet from the girl. She was facing him, hands over her ears, face twisted in a rictus of fear. She hadn’t stopped screaming since the shooting started. The plastic bag full of meds had landed near him. He grabbed it, tucking it in the back pocket of his jeans. Hopefully some of the bottles had survived the fall. Mark checked to make sure he still had the spare shells for the shotgun, then reached out and grabbed her arm. She started at the contact.
“Is there another way out?” he yelled over the noise.
The girl didn’t appear to have heard him. He dragged himself closer, shouting directly into her ear. “We have to get out. Is there a back door?”
“They’ll kill me!” she yelled back.
“They’ll kill you anyway,” he shouted. He could see her thinking it over, realizing he was right.
Decker scuttled around what remained of the counter.
“You hurt?” Mark yelled.
Decker shook his head. “The guard bought it, though.”
The girl scrambled forward on her belly. Mark motioned for Decker to follow. Wherever she was going, it couldn’t be worse than here.
There was a sudden lull in the fire. Mark peeked through one of the holes in the counter and saw boots crossing the threshold into the store. He hustled after Decker.
The girl had crawled into a back room the size of a closet. Once inside, she scrambled to her feet and started tugging at a pile of boxes on the floor. “Help me!” she cried, exasperated. Decker helped push them aside. Underneath lay a trapdoor. The girl hauled it up and descended a steep flight of metal stairs. Decker followed. Mark went last, pulling the door closed behind them and turning the bolt. It wouldn’t hold their attackers off for long, but might buy them a few minutes.
The stairs ran through a concrete shaft. The air was cold, dank. The girl hit a switch and low-level bulbs flickered on.
“What is this?” he asked.
“The pharmacy used to be a bar. This was where they stored the liquor,” she said.
“Which way out?” Decker asked.
She pointed, and Mark pushed past her. Up ahead, a short flight of stairs led to a set of double doors, bolted from the inside. A smooth ramp ran parallel to them.
“For kegs,” she explained.
The sound of thumping metal behind them: someone was trying the door. Voices shouted orders in Spanish. Then the steady pound of bullets against metal.
“Where does this come out?” Mark asked.
“Follow me.” She unbolted the lock and pushed the doors open.
It took a second for Mark’s eyes to adjust to daylight. He focused on Decker, running ahead of him down the long alley behind the store. A line of metal service doors abutted overflowing Dumpsters. A few doors down a guy in a soiled apron smoked a cigarette in an open doorway.
