Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 112001 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 560(@200wpm)___ 448(@250wpm)___ 373(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112001 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 560(@200wpm)___ 448(@250wpm)___ 373(@300wpm)
When he pulled back, he stared right into her eyes. “If we make it out of this alive, I’m taking you out, woman. And I’m paying.”
Phalen laughed in a short burst and blinked away tears. “We’ll split the check. But I’ll let you get the door for me.”
He searched her face and prayed he would see it again. “Deal.”
And then fun time was over.
As he righted her balance, she looked down at Daniel. A bright-red flush was spreading up his neck from the stings, and his lips were swelling. Down on his chest, his ribs were pumping in an uneven way, and one of his legs was kicking sporadically.
“Is there anything else you need?” she asked.
He described the location of the go-bag in the patient room. And he nearly pulled her back as she turned to the keypad and started to enter the numbers.
She was going to die out there.
Or maybe they would all be killed, picked off one by one.
“Be careful,” he said to her.
She looked over her shoulder. “I’ll be back.”
Like she was the Terminator or some shit. Then again, as she punched open the door, and she and the—wolf?!—disappeared into the thick smoke, he almost felt sorry for their enemy.
As the panel slammed shut, he got with the program.
And returned to his patient. “Daniel, hang on. Just breathe with me, okay…”
FORTY
OUTSIDE IN THE hall, Cathy glanced down at the wolf next to her as it dawned on her that the thing might not recognize her as a friend. But Lydia—assuming the woman was in there somewhere—apparently had some control over the beast, because it wasn’t going after its partner on their Hail Mary mission. In fact, the enormous timber wolf had put itself in front of her as it lifted its nose and sniffed the air—which might have been thick with smoke, but that clearly had some information that was relevant, going by the attention getting paid to the milky waves of chemical stink.
“This way,” Cathy said.
But the wolf was anticipating the direction, padding forward, continuing to stay directly in front. Keeping the gun up, Cathy anticipated the door to the patient room she was looking for as if she could manifest it—and then there the thing was, sure as if it had heeded her call.
Pushing the panel open, she led with the gun, the strobing lights from the compromised electrical system making everything even harder to assess.
The wolf stayed in the hall, as a guard.
The good news—and, man, they were overdue for some—was that the air was much clearer here, and she went over to the supply cabinet above the stainless steel sink in the corner. The black bag was exactly where Gus had said it would be, and she yanked the surprisingly dense weight out. A set of handles dropped down, and she looped them over her shoulder, tucking the carry-on-sized duffle under her arm.
She heard the growling just as she returned to the door.
And then she heard gunshots.
“Fuck,” she muttered.
But she wasn’t leaving Lydia—or the wolf, and the wolf, whatever the wolf—out there undefended. Slipping out past the jamb, she expected to find the animal right there, but it had moved positions. Battling the smoke, and trying not to cough so that she gave her position away, she tracked the sound of that low, menacing purr all the way to the end of the hall—
The destruction of the work area was nearly total. The place had been demolished by bombing or gunshots or both—and as she looked across the lab stations, she couldn’t see anything moving. Up on feet, that was. There were bodies writhing on the ground. Guards. Medical staff. People she knew, had worked with, had hired. Had trusted.
Where the hell was the wolf—
The gun muzzle came out of nowhere, and it was right at the level of her head, so close she could smell the munitions powder.
Cathy shifted her eyes to look at the soldier. The empty stare she met was a dead giveaway that it was one of those machines. That and the fact that the skin tone was too even, no capillaries or flush enlivening that pasty white countenance.
“Give me your weapon.”
As the command sank in, between one blink and the next… she was back in the tunnel with Gus, his strong arms holding her, her weight hanging in the air, his mouth on hers, their bodies finally together.
As last thoughts went, it was not a bad one.
“Fuck you,” she spat as she swung her own weapon around.
As triggers were pulled, the attack came from the side, the wolf flying through the smoky air as if from out of nowhere, its tackle taking the machine at just the right moment: The bullet meant for Cathy’s skull went flying off to the left, a pinging sound ringing out.
After which there was the temptation to just pull her own trigger again and again.