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Officer Penn staggered forward, ramming into Christie.
Her feet tangled and she spilled to the floor, her arm tearing free from Koch’s grip.
Penn landed on top of her with a grunt. He pinned her to the floor, his arms on either side of her.
“Penn!” Koch spun on his heels, aimed down the hallway.
He fired off three rounds in quick succession.
“Are you hit?” Hart asked. He aimed over the top of Christie and Penn.
“Yeah.” Penn pushed himself up a few inches.
Christie squirmed out from under him.
Koch grabbed his mic, keyed it. “Officer down! We’ve got at least four armed men engaging—”
As Christie followed his eyes, she saw two men pop out from around the corners at the end of the hall. They wore gray suits and held scary-looking rifles. They were the same men who had shot up the subway platform. The ones who had used a device that had driven everyone insane. Panic engulfed her.
The men fired down the hall at the officers and Christie.
She screamed as holes punched in the drywall above her head, showering her in dust.
The gunshots were thunderous in the tight hallway. She scrambled backward on her hands and knees, fleeing the violence, pure instinct driving her.
Koch crouched down and returned fire.
Hart joined him. Each of them shot half a dozen times before stopping.
The men had slid behind cover again.
“Get up!” Hart grabbed Penn under the armpit and heaved. “We don’t stand a chance in here!”
Penn’s face twisted into a mask of pain as he staggered to his feet. He swayed for a second before stumbling toward Christie.
She jumped up just as he got to her and sprinted for the end of the hall. More gunfire thundered from their attackers, and she screamed again. Penn hollered something from behind her, but she didn’t dare turn around.
Every cell in her body told her that staying in the hallway would lead to her death.
She reached the door at the rear of the building and slammed her forearm against the release bar in the middle of it. Light spilled into the hall as the door opened, temporarily blinding her.
Christie kept pumping her legs, not even considering slowly down even though she couldn’t see where she was running.
Her toes jammed against something, sending her sprawling.
Pain bolted through her foot, up her leg.
She fell into the parking lot, asphalt tearing at her knees and palms.
The door kicked open again and then slammed shut.
“Move!” Hart shouted from behind her.
Christie’s eyes adjusted to the bright sunlight. She twisted her head around and saw Koch and Hart bracing the door closed. They backed away from it, their pistols aimed at the middle.
Penn staggered drunkenly toward Christie. Blood dripped from the fingers on his left hand. The arm hung limply by his waist. He gripped the pistol in his right hand, though it was pointed at the ground.
His eyes had a glossy, distant sheen over them.
“Who are they?” Hart asked.
He called for backup over his radio again.
“They aren’t rioters, that’s for damn sure.” Koch continued backing up, his pistol trained on the door. “How you doing, Penn?”
“Been better.” Penn motioned for Christie to get up with his good arm. “Get in the car. Hurry!”
“They had M16s,” Hart cried. “M16s!”
The chaos had Christie’s thoughts twisted into knots. She didn’t know if she should get in the back of the car or run away from all of it. The officers were there to protect her, but they weren’t exactly doing an exemplary job.
Penn meandered to a squad car fifteen meters away and fumbled with the handle of the back door. He smeared blood over the white paint. “Get in. Now!”
Christie continued to hesitate.
“Move!” Koch reached her, though he kept his eyes on the rear door.
Finally, Christie got up and sprinted for the car. She figured that her best chance was to be around someone who was at least armed. And even with the adrenaline coursing through her system, fatigue ate at her muscles. She’d spent too much time running early that morning to be able to do it all over again.
She dove in the backseat.
Penn slammed it shut behind her.
Through the window, she watched the rear exit of her building.
It remained closed.
“Where are they?” Hart’s voice was muffled from the closed door of the squad car.
Koch didn’t look away from his target. “Get Penn and the woman out of here. I’ll take the other car as soon as you’re out of the parking lot.”
“No, we can’t—”
“If they come out of that door while we’re driving away, we’ll be sitting ducks.”
Penn slumped against the side of the car. His shoulders had rounded. The left side of his body drooped considerably.
“Damn it!” Hart glanced at him. “Okay, I’ll take them. You’ll be right behind us?”
“Yeah.” Koch stepped in front of the car and stood between it and the building. “Go!”
Hart helped Penn around to the other side and eased him into the passenger seat. The wounded officer collapsed into it, his head slamming against the rest. He closed his eyes.
Christie didn’t like how shallow his breathing was. Her chest rose and fell in rapid succession. The fact that his appeared labored and slow didn’t bode well for him.
The rear door still hadn’t opened, and Christie hoped that the men inside had given up chasing them through it. Maybe the officers could get her out of there in one piece after all.
The mob in the streets didn’t seem too bad all of a sudden.
Hart jumped in behind the wheel and started the engine. He handed the mic from the radio in the dash to Penn. “Get dispatch to—”
A window on the second floor of the apartment building shattered.
Muzzle flare blazed.
Koch twisted to his right and collapsed to his knees in front of the squad car.
More gunfire came from the window.
Blood erupted from Koch’s back. He crashed face-first on the parking lot.
The windshield of the car spiderwebbed.
Hart’s screams were drowned by Christie’s.