The telltale sound of the bus’s hydraulic door opening made Nola’s stomach twist into a tangled nest of knots. She took a quick peek to see where the good-guy staff member was. When she didn’t spot him, she stepped out from behind the SUV, spotted a figure moving off the bottom step of the bus, and quickly fired a single shot, hitting the militiaman in the cheek, causing him to collapse in the doorway of the bus. When a second militiaman tried to pull him back inside, Nola fired another shot and then frantically reloaded her weapon.
The Gray Rise member who’d tried to pull his fellow soldier back into the bus managed to retrieve the fallen man’s gun before scrambling out of sight.
Nola heard a pop right before she felt a stinging in her side. As she attempted to breathe in, her lungs refused to cooperate. She pounded her chest and fell to a knee, desperately trying to suck in some air.
The good guy with a gun came running out from behind a row of cars. “Yes, I got you, motherfucker! I got you…” His head exploded as he took a bullet from an open-carry demonstrator’s long gun across the street.
Finally able to take in tiny wisps of air, Nola crawled under the SUV and emerged on the other side. She quickly examined the area where she had felt the stinging, and was never so happy to be wearing Kevlar.