A bang sounded from somewhere to her right. Jessica grabbed another door handle and threw it open.

And for the first time in years, laid eyes on Travis.

Her heart caught in her throat. Her former partner had his back up against the wall, with a handgun pointed to the side of his head. His attacker wore a bulky orange reflective jumpsuit and a creepy bug-like silver respirator mask.

Travis’s dark brown eyes met hers over his attacker’s shoulder, somehow looking so achingly familiar and yet completely new in ways she didn’t have time to process.

Somehow she knew exactly what he wanted from her.

Not rescue, but a distraction.

She nodded. I got it.

“Hey, you! Stop!” She yanked her weapon from her ankle holster. “Right now! Drop your gun!”

The figure glanced toward her and Travis struck, knocking him sideways. The figure stumbled toward her. Then came the light—sharp, bright and blinding. A fist struck out.

“Jess!” She heard Travis’s voice calling her name.

But she couldn’t see where he was. She couldn’t see anything at all.