As we made straight for the black Hummer parked in the corner of the car park, I whispered, 'The Tailor and the Organisation must've sent their men by now… but we're getting out of this hell, one way or another.'
Ashur drove his elbow into the driver's window. Glass spidered and fell. He reached in, popped the lock and yanked the door open.
'Get in.' His voice was flat, all command.
He set me down. I caught the roof for balance and hobbled towards the passenger side, dragging my wrecked, aching body. My vision kept blacking out at the edges. I felt like I'd been fed through a meat grinder.
I hauled myself up and dropped into the seat.
'They'll be h—here any second.' My voice shook. He didn't look up from the nest of wires he was working on, just muttered, 'I know.'
I stared at his hands, breath ragged. 'That won't start that easily… We need a plan.'
The engine coughed, then roared to life.
One eyebrow went up on its own. He was more professional than I'd given him credit for—precise, unhurried. Like nothing ever rushed him; everything bent to his timing.
He leaned back, clicked his seat belt. 'Buckle up.'
I shot him a look, fumbling for my belt. 'That's our biggest problem right now?'
'Yeah,' he said to the mirror.
Watching the lifts in the side mirror, I hissed, 'We have to move. They'll be here any minute and bury us in this car park.' I jabbed a finger towards the roller shutter. 'We lost the doctor, and that door won't just open. We need another way.'
Still watching the mirror, his tone went cool and unyielding. 'It's been t—thirty-three minutes since I figured you'd pass out and spare me the q—questions.' He turned his head, met my eyes with that dark, unreadable stare. 'Why aren't you passing out?'
I gaped at him. If I'd had the strength, I'd have planted a fist in his face. 'So what's your plan?'
He hit the accelerator. Tyres screamed; burnt rubber stung my nose. Eyes on the mirror and the shutter, he growled, 'That metal door's electric. This thing's heavy. If the hit's h—hard enough…'
'Then the impact will rip the lock out,' I finished, staring at the shutter. I sucked in a breath, locked onto the emergency stairwell. 'Go.'
Gunfire cracked, shaking the whole car park.
More than fifty armed officers fanned across the floor like chess pieces sliding into formation—and opened fire.
I hunched, arms over my head, as Ashur launched us at the door. The Hummer chewed up the distance in seconds. We hit the steel—hard—and the world snapped.
We punched through the bent shutter and burst into daylight.
Security poured out of the building behind us, still firing. I clamped a hand over the bullet hole in my leg and lifted my head, gasping. Ashur swung us onto the dirt road at speed; rounds smacked the rear of the vehicle now.
I stared into the side mirror. They were sprinting for their vehicles, scrambling to follow. A bullet struck the mirror; the glass exploded.
I jerked my gaze forward. Endless dirt road. Sun knifing straight into my eyes. I blinked hard, stunned we'd actually made it out.
'It's not over.' I turned to him. His profile was all hard lines, veins standing in his neck. Blood ran from the arm that had taken a bullet, and under the sun his eyes looked even darker—like there was no colour left but black. The tight cords of his shoulder flashed in the gold light. One hand on the wheel. The other on his gun.
Gunfire still popped behind us, but Ashur was already pulling away.
The smell of earth filled my lungs—smelled like life.
I leaned my head against the cracked window and let my dazed gaze blur into the trees and the far-off hills. Up into the clear, open blue.
Gunfire kept building.
Then the thrum of helicopter blades rolled in from ahead. I forced my eyes open.
A heavy chopper swept toward us from the front. I actually smiled. Its doors slid wide and a man in a flight helmet—just a dark shape at this distance—opened fire on the vehicles chasing us.
Still slumped against the glass, I smiled deeper and let my eyelids fall. I felt like a cracked jug, drained of its last drop.
Sunlight was warm and gold, painting a pink halo behind my closed eyes. A cool wind streamed in through Ashur's shattered window and crossed the cabin to me, playing with my hair, turning it in its fingers.
A distant, washed-out memory surfaced. I should've listened to Steven that day.
I wish I'd been brave like him.
Maybe none of this would've happened.
My eyelids grew heavier and heavier, and I let the wind take me under—into a deep sleep that might have lasted forever.