Chapter 3 - Blood on the Asphalt
Thomas pulled Nora back behind the heavy steel door just as a suppressed shot chipped the concrete frame, showering them with gray dust. Maya let out a sharp, startled wail against Nora’s chest. Nora reflexively cradled the baby’s neck, humming a frantic, broken tune to silence her.
""Shh, baby, please, please be quiet,"" Nora begged under her breath, tears stinging her eyes.
""They tapped the driver,"" Thomas muttered, assessing the space with cold fury. He reached behind a nearby electrical conduit and retrieved a fire axe from its glass casing, smashing the lock with the heel of his palm. ""We don't take that car. Stay three paces behind me. When I break the line, you run straight for the commercial laundry van on the far left. The engine is warm.""
""I can't drive standard!"" she cried out.
""It's an automatic fleet vehicle. Key is under the sun visor. Go!""
Thomas kicked the steel door wide and hurled the fire axe straight through the front windshield of the black SUV. The glass shattered inward in an explosion of spiderweb fractures, forcing the sniper inside to flinch and duck.
In that split second, Thomas lunged across the wet tarmac. Nora sprinted behind him, her bare feet slipping on the slick grease and rain-soaked asphalt. The cold bit into her skin, but adrenaline burned hotter.
A figure emerged from the side of the loading bay, raising a pistol toward Nora. Thomas didn't break stride; he caught the man by the throat, driving him into the corrugated metal wall with bone-snapping force. The weapon clattered to the ground.
""Get in!"" Thomas roared, wrenching open the sliding door of the white laundry van.
Nora dove onto the floorboards among bags of dirty hospital linen, curling herself completely around Maya to absorb any impact. Thomas jumped into the driver's seat, ripped down the visor, caught the falling key, and twisted the ignition. The diesel engine roared to life.
Tires screeched as Thomas threw the van into reverse, slamming into the rear of a sedan that was pulling up to block them. The impact jolted Nora hard against the partition. Thomas shifted into drive, floored the gas pedal, and smashed through the lowered security gate, splintering the wooden arm into flying debris.
They burst onto the rain-slicked city avenue. Neon signs blurred past the fogged windshield. Nora sat up, gasping for breath, checking every inch of Maya's tiny body. The infant was unharmed, wide eyes blinking at the dim cabin light.
From the driver's seat, Thomas glanced into the rearview mirror. His face was pale, his hand gripping the wheel tightly. A dark crimson stain was rapidly spreading across the left side of his dark overcoat.
""Thomas..."" Nora stammered, staring at the growing pool of blood. ""You're hit.""
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He didn't answer right away. His gaze flicked to the dashboard GPS, then back to the mirror, where two pairs of headlights were gaining on them through the deluge.
""There's a safehouse thirty miles north,"" he said, his voice dropping an octave as his breath shortened. ""Keep pressure on my shoulder if you want us to reach it alive.""
