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Pounding and shouting at Christie’s front door dragged her out of a restless sleep. Gunshots and blood had filled her dreams. She’d twisted and rolled on top of her bed until the blankets were wrapped around her so tightly that she could barely move.
The hammering on the door paused for a second. “Police! Open up!”
Christie froze. Did she hear that right? Was a police officer knocking at her door? If so, how had they found her? Fear crept up her spine. She’d fled the scene of a crime. Would she get in trouble?
“Open the door, Ms. Tolbert!” The pounding resumed, even harder this time.
Christie fought to extricate herself from the comforter and sheet wrapped around her arms and torso. Finally getting free, she ran from the bedroom. She paused at the entrance to her kitchen, glancing at her laptop.
The lid remained open, the strange thumb drive still plugged in.
She decided then to give it to the officers and tell them everything. Wiping her hands clean of the entire mess would take a gigantic weight off her chest. She didn’t care if it got to that Detective Lloyd guy or not.
She just wanted free of the whole thing.
The door shook in its frame as the man continued to pump his fist against it.
“Coming!” Christie would have grabbed the thumb drive then, but she feared the officer might blow the door off its hinges if she didn’t answer in the next second.
She undid the locks.
Opened the door.
Three officers stood in the hallway.
They all wore harried expressions.
“Christie Tolbert?” the officer in front asked. He was shorter than the others, though his shoulders were a bit broader.
“Yes. Look, I’m sorry that I didn’t—”
“You have to come with us.”
“Am I under arrest?” The hair on Christie’s arms stood on end. She’d never been in trouble with the police before.
The officer in front looked over his right shoulder at the oldest of the three. Something passed wordlessly between them. The man in front turned back to her. “No, but we have to take you into custody.”
“I don’t understand.”
“We’ll explain the situation when we have you safely in the squad car.” The officer glanced at her T-shirt and boxers. “Get dressed quickly, please.”
Christie realized she didn’t have a bra on. She crossed her arms over her chest. Blood rushed to her cheeks. That was when she heard glass shatter outside in the street. Her nostrils twitched. She smelled smoke.
“What’s going on?” she asked the officer.
His nametag read Hart.
“Miss Tolbert, I need you to get dressed.” He held a pacifying hand up. “There are protestors outside who are causing problems. It’s nothing we can’t handle, but we need to get you away from here as soon as possible. You’ll be fine.”
Christie stood in front of the door for several seconds, her tired mind struggling to wade through any options she had. She didn’t know if she even had any other than to go with the cops.
“Come in.” She kept her arms over her breasts as she backed up, cognizant of how cold she felt. Surely, the officers would notice too. “The thumb drive is plugged into the computer in the living room.”
As the officers stepped inside, she turned and walked to her bedroom.
“What are you talking about, Miss Tolbert?” Hart asked.
“That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?” Christie closed the bedroom door behind her and stripped her shirt off. She quickly dressed in jeans and a hooded sweatshirt.
Hart didn’t respond from the living room.
The officers spoke in hushed tones that she couldn’t make out through the closed door.
Tires squealed in the street.
Glass shattered.
Metal rended.
Christie ran to the window in her bedroom and pulled the curtains back.
A red car had driven through a glass bus stop in front of her building. Its right front tire was propped up above the top of the bench, slowly spinning as it hung in the air.
The driver’s side door opened.
A small man stepped out. Blood ran down his face from a cut on his forehead. He blinked rapidly as he teetered beside the car, a confused look in his eyes.
Someone shouted from down the street.
A group of men stormed toward the driver, screaming at him. There were five or six of them moving side by side. The man in the center held a wooden baseball bat. He shouted at the bloodied driver and jabbed the bat into his chest.
The driver stood still, gaping directly at them. He didn’t say anything.
More people moved in behind the group of men.
“They’re forming a mob,” Christie whispered to herself.
The group of men circled the driver. They screamed at him.
One of them shoved him.
And then the man with the bat swung it. He hit the driver in the stomach, doubled him over.
“No!” Christie covered her mouth with her hand.
The rest of the men began punching and kicking.
Mercifully, Christie couldn’t see the actual blows landing because the man fell to the street. Her view of him was obstructed by the mob of people surrounding him. The crowd pushed in around the fight.
Two of them jumped on the car and stomped on the hood.
They kicked out the lights.
Christie staggered away from the window, a choked sob escaping her throat. Had the men from the subway found her? Had they used the same device she’d seen earlier? Or were the people outside simply rioters?
“Miss Tolbert.” Officer Hart pushed her bedroom door open just as she reached out for it. “We have to go. Now!”
There would be no more arguing from Christie. She didn’t care why they needed to take her into custody; she just wanted to get away from the mob forming outside. She followed him to the living room where the other two officers waited by the front door. A quick glance at their name tags told her they were Penn and Koch.
Penn was slightly taller and younger, Koch the oldest of the threesome.
“They’re breaking into a full-blown riot,” Penn breathed. “They’re killing a man outside right now!”
Hart grimaced. “We have our orders.”
“But they’re murdering him!”
“Goddamn it, Penn.” Hart looked back at Christie. “Goddamn it. Okay, we’ll get her to the car, then you and I will go see what we can do for him. To hell with the orders.” He stepped in front of Koch. “You take her to the—”
A gunshot fired in the street.
Christie ducked down, cried out. “What’s happening?”
“We’ve gotta get her outta here.” Koch grabbed her upper arm, pulled her to the door. “They’re losing their minds out there.”
“Why are they doing this?”
“They’re rioting because of the subway attacks this morning.” Hart pulled his firearm out of its holster, and then poked his head through the door. He checked both directions of the hallway and then stepped outside Christie’s apartment. He waved at them to follow. “I’m sure you heard about it on the news.”
Koch and Christie came up behind him. Penn took the rear. They moved down the hall quickly.
“I was there.” Christie’s confusion grew. “Isn’t that why you’re here?”
Hart stopped a few feet in front of her and spun around. “You were there during the attack? And you escaped?”
“I thought that’s why you came for me.” Christie shook her head.
She needed sleep. Fatigue had clouded her thoughts, made it hard to make sense of anything that was happening. She would give every penny she had for another hour or two of rest.
Hart looked at Koch. “That’s why she’s so important. She might know something about the attacks. That’s why they sent us here to get her.”
“But I don’t know anything!”
The officers ignored her.
“We have to get her out of here.” Koch grabbed the small radio by his shoulder and spoke into it while he took a few steps away from them.
A door beside them opened a few inches, an elderly face peering through the crack.
“Go back inside, ma’am.” Hart pointed at her. “Keep your door locked and stay away from it.”
The old woman watched him for a second, the lines of her face deepening as she thought it over. Then she closed the door. Her locks clicked into place.
“Miss Tolbert.” Hart took hold of Christie’s arms, pulled her in front of him. “We have two cars outside. We can make it there, but I need you to stay close to me. Do you understand?”
A tear spilled down Christie’s cheek. She nodded.
“Good. We’ll keep you safe.”
“We need to move.” Penn held his pistol in both hands by his waist. “The longer we stay here, the worse it’s going to get outside.”
Koch came back. “Half the city is going crazy. They can’t send anyone else to help us.”
“Shit,” Hart growled. He looked at both of the officers. “We’ve got this, but we’ve gotta move fast. And for God’s sake, don’t fire on anyone. Understand?”
They started down the hall again when Christie pulled up. “What about the thumb drive?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Hart reached the door leading to the stairs. He glanced through a tiny window in it before pulling the door open. “We were only told to get you.”
“But—”
“We’re trying to keep you alive, Miss. I don’t give a damn about a thumb drive.”
Christie dropped the subject and quietly followed them. The officer had a point. If no one else cared about what the man in the subway had given her, then why should she be concerned with it? The streets were filled with rioters. There were more pressing matters at hand than a stupid memory stick.
They took the stairs quickly, moving in a tight line with Hart in the lead. When they reached the ground floor, he paused by the entrance and peered through another tiny window.
He turned back to Christie. “Our cars are in the parking lot behind the building. You know the one I’m talking about?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Once we’re outside, I need you to stay right behind me. I’ll open the back door of the cruiser and you jump in. Got it?”
“Yes, sir.”
“You boys ready?” he asked the rest of them.
“Let’s do it,” Penn said. “I’m going to need a double whiskey when we get out of here.”
Koch smirked. “We’re going to be dealing with this goddamn riot all week. You won’t be hitting up happy hour any time soon, son.”
“Stay focused.” Hart opened the door and checked the next room. “Clear.”
He stepped into the small lobby of Christie’s building. Post office boxes for the tenants lined the far wall. The main door leading to the street sat on their left. Loud voices carried through the lobby from outside. A few people ran past the glass door. One of them had an upside-down bottle in his hand.
Hart went right and plunged into a poorly lit hallway that led to the apartments on the first floor. Christie’s eyes adjusted slowly as she moved from the lobby into the hall. She’d always hated how dark her building was, even in the middle of the day.
They were only fifteen yards down the hall when the main door in the lobby slammed opened behind them.
Christie didn’t look back.
But Koch did from beside her. “What the hell?”
And then gunfire erupted behind them.