Chapter 20

Jep rolled off of Em and pulled his gun as the door was kicked in. He fired, pushing their assailants back.

"Get to the bedroom." He shoved her forward. "I'll be right behind you." He fired a few more rounds as he scrambled after her, putting himself between her and their attackers.

He slammed the bedroom door shut and dove beside the bed as a volley of bullets tore into the walls. Scrambling up to his knees, he shot at the door, then bumped the bedside table, knocking the statue to the floor, where it shattered.

"Stay down," he said as he dragged the bed away from the wall. A shard of statue cut into his knee when he had to duck again to avoid being shot.

Em crawled around to help him push the bed into place before more shots were fired, ripping the door apart.

Jep fired again as he pulled Em toward the window. "Go."

"You can't stay here."

"I'll be right behind you. Just go."

She hesitated only a second before making her move.

"Don't die," she said as she climbed onto the fire escape and ducked out of sight.

Jep duck-walked to the window, keeping his head out of the firing line.

"Get out of there!" she yelled.

"Go down to the street and wait for me there out of sight."

The shots kept coming. Jep returned fire before diving out the window. He slammed against the rail, and it gave way, sending him rolling off the platform.

"Jep!" Em screamed from the ladder.

He hung in the air, his hand gripping a broken bit of railing as his gun clattered to the ground.

They were almost eye level, and they looked at each other before Jep checked the window, then looked back at her. "Get out of here. You have to go. Now."

"I can't. The ladder's broken."

He checked to see that the bottom half was missing. It was a long way to the ground.

He kept his voice calm. "You have to jump."

She squeezed her eyes shut as she shook her head in furious rotation. "It's too far."

"Em. Look at me." She did. "You have to do this. They will kill you. Please. Go. Now."

She licked her lips and slowly unwrapped her arm from around the rung before descending until she dangled off the bottom of the ladder.

"Jump!" he yelled.

She made a squeaking noise as she let go and hit the ground with a thud, her legs collapsing under her.

Jep swung sideways and hooked his leg on the ladder where she had been. "Run!" He yelled at her as he pulled himself across. Although, the way she'd fallen, he wasn't sure that she could.

A figure appeared at the window, and Jep opened his mouth to yell again when a shot was fired from below, and the man disappeared again. He hugged the ladder and looked to see Em sitting on the ground, pointing his gun at the window.

"Come on," she called up to him. "You're clear. Hurry."

He slid the rest of the way down the ladder and landed near Em with a roll.

She fired again before he took the gun from her.

"They could cut us off at the road," he said. "We need to go. Can you walk?"

She pushed up but grimaced. "I don't know."

He kept an eye on the window and kept checking the end of the alley as he wrapped his free arm around her and dragged her to her feet. "I wish I could leave you where you are until an ambulance turns up, but we don't have a choice, I'm afraid. I'm gonna need you to try. Otherwise, you can jump on my back."

He fired at the window again as she put more weight on her legs and limped forward. "I can do it."

"You sure?"

"Yeah." She limped faster to prove the point.

He kept his arm around her, hating that he had to drag her faster, but she didn't cry out in pain.

Once they were around the corner, he confirmed there were no hostiles in his line of sight and leaned her against the wall while he made a call.

"Agents in distress. We need backup now. Multiple assailants." After giving them the address, he tucked his phone back into his pocket and pulled off the latex gloves that were torn to pieces. Em looked at her hands, suddenly remembering them.

"We need to find somewhere safe to hide you."

"Can we go back to the car and get out of here?" She pulled off what was left of the rubber.

"They could be watching. And I'm not ready to leave yet. Can you keep walking?"

She took a few steps, scrunching her face in pain, but nodded.

"Stay low," he said, pushing her in front of him while he watched behind them. After rounding a corner, he checked doors until he found one that was unlocked. "In here," he said, checking the street before shutting them both inside.

"What if they find us in here?" she said, looking around the small foyer of what appeared to be a boutique suite of offices, but there was no one around.

An emerald daybed with gold buttons was in a small nook, and the tiled floor displayed some kind of star pattern whose rays reached out to the walls.

"They won't. They weren't following."

"How'd they even know we were here?"

"Someone was either watching, or they were tipped off."

"By who?"

"Your guess is as good as mine. For now, I won't take any chances. We'll need to find a hiding place for you until backup arrives."

"Why just for me? You're not going back out there, are you?"

His face crumpled in frustration. "We need the journal."

She tipped her head toward the ceiling. "I forgot about the journal."

"I must have dropped it when I dove for you back at the kitchen."

"Then we can go back for it when the others arrive. It's too dangerous to go get it now."

"We can't wait. It may already be too late, but I have to try." His eyes pivoted across the room to a door with a gold nameplate that read "Janitor".

"Over here," he said, taking her hand.

"You want me to hide in a janitor's closet?"

He opened the door, and the faint smell of bleach greeted them.

"There isn't room," Em said, nudging a bucket with her toe.

"You can climb on top of those boxes."

She pursed her lips. "I'm not sitting on a pile of cardboard. I can come with you."

"No way." He scooped her up, and she yelped as he deposited her on a box that half-collapsed under her weight. "I can't do my job if I'm worried about you. Especially when you're struggling to walk."

"So I'm supposed to sit here and worry?"

"No. You can sit and pray. If I don't come find you in an hour, you can come out."

"But—"

He shut her into the dark, pressing his hand on the outside of the door when she yelled.

"Jep! Jep, I don't like this! You'd better come back to me when this is all over." Her voice trailed off at the end. He mouthed the word "sorry," then turned and ran to the door, checking how many rounds he had left.

"Three," he said as he replace the magazine. He couldn't risk going to the car for more, so three would have to be enough.

"God, I'm going to need you to go before me on this one," he said as he hurried down the sidewalk, taking notice of every pedestrian and vehicle that approached.

The journal would be helpful, but taking one of these guys alive could also be invaluable.

He ducked into a doorway to stay out of sight as he scanned the street and the front of the building. It was the only way in. For now, it was clear.

As he moved to approach the building, he kept his gun pressed against his leg to keep it from being seen too easily by anyone who shouldn't. He waited until a car drove past before running for the building, noting, as he pushed open the front door, that it was broken. Whoever had attacked them hadn't had a key. He deposited that piece of information to contemplate later as he slipped inside.

A horn blared somewhere on the street, and he twisted sideways, pressing against the wall. He waited a breath before checking through the window that filled the top half of the door, then made his way to the stairs.

Focusing on the molded texture of the gun grip as it pressed into his palm, he climbed. His increased heart rate throbbed through his chest, beating out a quick, steady rhythm that faded from thought when he reached the top of the stairs and did a quick check of the hall.

He stepped slowly onto the empty landing. The front door of the apartment had been shredded by bullets and was hanging from one hinge. He ducked to get a view of the kitchen beyond. If the journal was still there, it would be on the floor somewhere in the kitchen. He shifted to get a different view of the room. It appeared to be empty. Hopefully, they were all out combing the streets. He thought of Em in the closet. He had been content leaving her there. She should be safe, but nothing was ever certain in these situations. Especially where Em was concerned. She was a magnet for disaster, but she'd somehow come out on top. If God was in this… "God, let the journal be there."

He took one step but was thrown back against the wall when a flash was followed by an explosion.

A heavy darkness hung in the air with the tangy smoke that stuck in his lungs, refusing to budge as he tried to take a breath. Bells rung in muted procession through his head, and his vision cleared to a vague blur as his throat tugged uselessly for breath.

He rolled onto his side and dragged himself toward the stairs while his diaphragm finally responded in small gulps of air to a drowning man.

He pulled himself down a step, then slid down a couple more in thumps, which must have dislodged something because his diaphragm released in a rush. He sputtered and heaved, continuing to slide down the steps until he reached the bottom, where he laid on the landing, stretching his face to clear his eyes from their prison of fog. He ignored the high and low tones of ringing, considering that he was alive when his body was telling him he should be dead.

He rolled onto his arms with a groan, noticing for the first time that his gun was still in his hand. Using the little bit of strength that was returning to him, he put the weapon back into his holster before pushing up onto his knees, then attempted to rise to his feet.

After the initial dizzy spell, his head cleared further, and he staggered to the front door, stumbling outside, where people were gathering, gaping.

"Hey," someone said, walking up to him but not touching him. "You okay? What happened in there?"

All Jep could think was that people asked the weirdest questions.

He shook away the fuzz and pushed past the man as he surveyed the scene. More people were moving toward the explosion, their phones lifted to the smoke pouring out a window on the second floor. But one man was moving abruptly away from the scene and around the corner.

More people were talking to him, but he couldn't afford to change his attention in any other direction. It took all he had to remain focused on the corner. His legs moved almost of their own accord to follow his line of sight. His gait gaining speed as his body recognized itself again.

He pulled his weapon when he reached the corner and the sound of sirens pierced through the pinging bells in his ears. Behind him, the crowd had forgotten about him and were focused on the fire that was now breaking windows.

He rounded the corner with his weapon raised, checking doorways and alleys as he moved forward. Then, as he passed another alley, he saw the toe of a shoe disappear behind a dumpster.

He aimed and approached. Slowly. Quietly. His training driving him forward in stealth and precision despite his condition. The man was his. Jep was ready. Coiled. But his ears still hummed, so he didn't hear the woosh from behind, and there was no time to react before another flash sent him into a void.