5

Kailea dove out of the way just in time.

Marcus didn’t slow, much less stop. Instead, as he came flying across the parking lot, he floored the accelerator. Kailea watched as the Ford smashed through the locked doors and screeched to a halt inside the church’s rear lobby.

She stood there for several moments, staring at the gaping hole in the wall where the doors used to be. Then, hearing Marcus yelling for her, she forced herself forward, climbed through the wreckage, and found Marcus engaged in a firefight.

The hallway was filled with smoke and the dust of shredded Sheetrock. The overhead lights were flickering. Sparks showered down from exposed wires in the ceiling. Water from a ruptured pipe sprayed everywhere. Through the haze, Kailea spotted Marcus positioned behind the open driver’s-side door of the truck. He had his Sig Sauer out, and he was squeezing one round after another at a shadowy figure wearing a ski mask on the other side of the sanctuary.

No one else was visible. Kailea assumed many were dead. But even the wounded weren’t about to show themselves. If it were her, she’d have flattened on the floor and desperately tried to take cover under the rows of wooden pews. There was, of course, nothing she or Marcus could do for the wounded until they had neutralized the shooters. But how exactly were they going to do that?

They were completely outgunned. Whoever this guy in the ski mask was, he was using an automatic rifle with a high-capacity magazine capable of holding between sixty and one hundred rounds. All Kailea carried was her service pistol and two magazines, not counting the mag she’d already emptied. Each held fifteen rounds, giving her a total of only thirty shots. Marcus also had just two magazines left, but given that he was using larger, .357-caliber rounds, his magazines held only a dozen rounds. That gave him twenty-four shots, each one as precious as it was irreplaceable.

Kailea felt her Android vibrate. She ignored it and looked at Marcus, only to see him urgently holding up his phone and pointing at her. She pulled her phone out and found a text from him.

Draw fire, Marcus had texted. Right flank, start shooting, quick. I need better position and angle.

At first she found it odd Marcus was texting her rather than shouting out commands. Then again, they could barely hear each other in the cacophony, and even if they could, it probably wouldn’t be smart to telegraph their precise moves.

Kailea didn’t like the thought of being used as bait. Nevertheless, she crouched down and began advancing along the right side of the Ford, hopefully low enough not to be seen, yet high enough to see over the truck into the sanctuary as well as into the large hallway to their left. Every few seconds, Marcus squeezed off another round, then braced for an onslaught in return.

Another text came in from Marcus.

On my signal open fire, he wrote. I’ll crawl toward main doors, center aisle, take him out.

Kailea stared at the message in disbelief. This guy really was insane. Shaking her head, but without a plan of her own, she texted back.

Fine.

What other choice did she have?

Crossing herself like she’d done as a girl growing up in Brooklyn, she opened the passenger-side door of the truck and, using it as a shield, opened fire.

The moment Marcus got her reply, he dropped to his stomach.

From this vantage point, he could now see dozens of people hiding under the pews. Some faces he recognized. Most he did not. Everyone was shivering in fear. Some were bleeding out. Others lay motionless. And then he saw Marcy.

The little girl was curled up in a fetal position in a beautiful pink dress, covered in blood. Marcus had no idea if it was her own or someone else’s. He strained to see if either Carter or Maya were with her but couldn’t tell. Regardless, he knew he had to move quickly. Suddenly Marcy’s eyes met his. She began to reach out to him. She looked like she was going to call to him. But he immediately put his finger over his lips and motioned for her to stay quiet and still.

With bullets whizzing just above his head, Marcus put the Sig Sauer back in his shoulder holster and began crawling across the wooden floor toward the little girl. Her eyes widened, though she remained frozen and mute, just as he’d instructed. Before he reached her, however, he shifted directions, turning right and crawling down the left-side aisle of the sanctuary as quickly as he could. When he had nearly reached the edge of the main vestibule, he turned right.

Behind him, he could hear his new partner doing her job. She was drawing the shooter’s fire and fury, but how long could that last? Kailea was in real danger of running out of ammo or being charged by the attacker with no way to adequately defend herself. Marcus forced himself to move faster, even while having to stay low and out of view.

When he finally reached the center aisle of the sanctuary, he stopped, but only for a moment. He drew his pistol, said a silent prayer, and took a deep breath. Then he popped to his feet, took aim at the shooter, and squeezed off four quick shots.