Oz grunted and fought every instinct to pull her arm away from Frankie’s ministrations. “Ow. The treatment isn’t supposed to cause more harm than the injury. Have you ever done this before?”
“Yes, badass, you picked the one short seller with a side hustle patching up gunshot wounds.” Frankie paused mid stitch and gave Oz a look.
“That was pretty badass, wasn’t it? I felt like a freakin’ action hero. Although the real star of the show was your driving. Are you lying to me and you’re really an international spy or a superhero?” Oz winced again as Frankie made another pass through her skin with the needle and thread. She’d kill for anything to numb the wound, but she hadn’t found anything useful.
“I’m exactly who I said I am. As for you, action movie heroes don’t get shot.” Frankie’s hands trembled as she tightened her stitch.
“Pfft. It all happens off camera. Seeing all this would slow down the plot.” Oz turned her head to look at Frankie. “Although if they had someone as beautiful as you stitching up their hero, they’d be sure to show it, so maybe you’re right.”
Frankie laughed and the fear melted from her eyes. “Don’t think for a second your sweet talk is going to keep me from sticking this needle right back through your arm. I have two more stitches to go. Don’t be a baby, I’m almost done.”
Oz snapped her fingers on her free hand. “It was worth a shot. Although I stand by my assessment.”
“I’ve moved up from ‘not ugly’ to ‘beautiful’? What heights will I climb to next?”
“Let’s see.” Oz tapped her chin. “I bet you were gorgeous in an orange jumpsuit. If you’d stayed on the street alone much longer, I’m sure you would have been the most stunning corpse in the morgue.”
Frankie groaned. “This is why the heroes never get shot. They’re good at their action part, but when they have to talk to a smoking hot woman it all falls apart.”
“Let’s not forget you banged down my door and begged for this.” Oz gave her biggest, most winning grin.
“You’ll never let me forget it if I’m reading this situation correctly.” Frankie tied off the last stitch.
Oz flexed her arm. It felt better than she expected. Thankfully the shot had only winged her. “Damn right.”
While Oz cleaned up the medical supplies she watched Frankie as she took in the small shipping container.
“I’m having trouble reconciling your ratty recliner and your tricked out hidey-hole.” Frankie gently tapped a pistol hanging on the wall.
“This place?” Oz pointed abstractly around her as if she didn’t know what Frankie was talking about. “Oh, this isn’t mine.”
Frankie looked like a cartoon with her eyes practically bugging out of her face. “Excuse me?”
“You borrow things to do your job, I borrow things to do mine.” Oz motioned Frankie to a stool and pulled up a matching one across from her. She could tell Frankie wanted a better answer, but they had more important things to discuss. “Tell me everything you’ve got on this company that’s supposedly trying to destroy the world.”
“Do you think our hosts would mind if I sampled some of their copious canned goods? Come to find out, motorcycle chases make me hungry.” Frankie’s stomach growled on cue.
“Help yourself, but if I were you, I’d steer clear of the Spam and canned beans and hit up that little cabinet over there.” Oz pointed to a metal footlocker stashed under the pegboard of weapons.
Frankie returned with a bowlful of peanut M&Ms, pretzels, and cashews, a bag of chips, and a handful of dried apricots. “Why all the canned goods and this gold mine?”
Oz shrugged. “The longer you stay in here, the more questions you’ll have. Better to stick with the task at hand. Eat and talk.”
Frankie looked around one more time before opening her bag of chips. The first loud crunch nearly obscured her words. “InvestBioX. Evil incarnate and not just because they’re after me, although that does complicate my feelings toward them. They’re new to the pharmaceutical business, but since they turned their attention that way, they’ve been active. It started with acquiring small companies with existing patents on rare, not widely prescribed drugs. I watched the prices of those drugs skyrocket as soon as InvestBioX took over ownership of the patents.”
“Why the rare meds? Couldn’t they make more money by gouging something everyone takes?” Oz helped herself to some of Frankie’s snacks and received a slap on the hand for her efforts.
“The more common the med, the more people are making it. You can’t get ahead of the market or no one will buy your product. The rare drugs might only have one option and no easy alternatives. Most of the ones I watched were lifesaving or life-sustaining medications. People would literally die if they stopped taking the meds and so they’d pay whatever the price.” Frankie wrinkled her nose as if she’d smelled something rotten.
Oz’s cheeks warmed until they felt on fire. It was something that happened when anger slowly burned a pit in her gut until it seeped into her blood and out every pore. “Is any of what they’re doing illegal?” She could already guess the answer.
Frankie shook her head sadly. “It makes them shitty people, but they’re allowed to do it. Before you ask, I’m not on their hit list because they’re not nice, well, not only for that reason. About three months ago, there was, out of nowhere, a ton of buzz about a new product InvestBioX was developing. They’ve never shown any interest in creating anything, only squeezing every cent out of desperate people.”
Oz shrugged. “Their business model could have changed. You haven’t convinced me they’d care one bit about you or your Googling.” She tried again for snacks and was rebuffed again.
“You’re so cute giving a big horrible corporation the benefit of the doubt.” Frankie patted Oz on the cheek. “New drugs take years, sometimes decades, to develop and even if they’d gotten the research from one of the companies they acquired, they fired nearly all the scientists as soon as the ink was dry on the ownership transfer. Plus, I forgot to mention that when talking about InvestBioX, you also have to consider the hedge fund owned by their CEO.” Frankie looked a little smug.
Oz was happy to meander along the evidentiary path Frankie was leading her down, but she’d better have one hell of an ace up her sleeve. Before Oz could push for more information, an insistent beeping started across the small space. Oz rushed to it, her heart rate climbing the closer she got.
“How did they find us so fast?” She had five solid seconds of blind panic before her instincts kicked in. She cast around until she found clothes folded neatly in vacuum sealed bags. Each was labelled with a size and the contents. The pristine organization was nearly enough to make her puke. She turned to Frankie and tossed her the bag. “Don’t argue with me. Strip down and change every piece of clothing. I think these should fit. Shoes, socks, bra, all of it. And anything you carry with you like a wallet or phone.” Oz pointed to the floor where she wanted Frankie to pile her things.
“This chitchat took an unexpected turn.” Frankie put her hands on her hips. “I’m not getting naked for you for any reason.”
Oz bit back a reply that was far too suggestive for the situation. She could see the same emotions swimming in Frankie’s eyes. “How about to stay alive? Your fan club has arrived and the only way they could have gotten to us this quickly is if you are wearing a tracker. I’m giving you the benefit of the doubt and assuming that’s not intentional.”
Frankie rolled her eyes, but the saucy gesture didn’t hide the anxiety that had crept into her countenance. “How generous of you. Turn around and no peeking.”
Despite her joking tone, Oz noticed Frankie shucked her clothes with remarkable speed.
“What do we do now?” Frankie was eying the pile of clothing and personal items on the floor like one of the bad guys might crawl out of a pocket.
“Only choice is to get out of here.” Oz helped herself to another gun and a jackknife.
She slipped the knife into Frankie’s jean pocket and pulled her to the door. “Just in case you need to rescue me.” Oz still inched out slowly. “We need to get to the train tracks and we need to do it without getting caught by your friends or the container yard security.” Oz considered taking Frankie’s hand but figured that would likely get her a sucker punch to the gut. Frankie was no damsel in distress as she’d proved on the motorcycle. She didn’t need Oz’s coddling.
“I didn’t expect being on the run to involve quite so much actual running.” Frankie took a deep breath and rolled her shoulders. “Let’s do it.”
They dashed and darted in and amongst the containers stacked high all around them. Oz felt like a rat in a maze. If she hadn’t spent enough time here to know her way around she would have been well and truly lost.
“Are you sure you know where you’re going?” Frankie sounded more worried than Oz was comfortable with.
A flash of light reflecting off something nearby caught Oz’s attention. Without processing, she grabbed Frankie in her arms and spun her against the side of a container. She shielded her with her body as the staccato ping of bullets on metal filled the air around them. She watched the corrugated wall of a bright blue container pockmark with each impact, inches from where they’d been a moment before.
“Holy shit!” Frankie clung to Oz tightly.
It wasn’t the appropriate time to notice, and Oz certainly didn’t want to notice, but she was, for the moment, still breathing and Frankie felt damn good in her arms. Things like that were hard to ignore, even when there were bullets zinging all around.
“That was too close. We have to keep moving.” Oz’s heart was beating as rapidly as the gunshots had impacted the metal next to them. She took off again, and this time she did take Frankie’s hand and dragged her farther into the maze.
Oz urged Frankie in front of her, directing their madcap dash while also protecting Frankie from assaults from behind. They turned a corner and Frankie pulled up short and backed up two steps into Oz.
A man with a terrible haircut and a nasty snarl turned the corner, his gun aimed at Frankie’s forehead. “Little bitch. You thought you could run forever?”
“Mind your manners, barnacle. That’s no way to speak to a lady.” Oz pulled Frankie behind her and took her place in the line of fire.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Frankie exhaled loudly. “He doesn’t look like a barnacle. Sorry, sir, my friend here forgot her manners.”
Oz shushed her. “You didn’t hire me for my pristine etiquette. Give me a minute.”
As soon as she said it, she lunged at the man’s hand and pushed his weapon skyward. It discharged with a loud “crack” which seemed to startle him as much as anyone. Oz took advantage of the momentary distraction and drove her shoulder into his chest, sending both of them flying into the dirt.
Once they landed, Oz on top of the assailant, it became a mad, desperate, scramble for the upper hand. Oz landed two punishing body blows before the man kicked her off of him. The boot to the gut knocked the wind out of her. There wasn’t time to wait for it to return. Her opponent lunged for his gun which had fallen from his hand during Oz’s initial assault.
Before he reached the gun, Oz jumped on his back and wrapped her arm around his neck. He clawed at her forearm and kicked his feet wildly. Even though Oz had an advantageous position, he had size and strength on her and was able to plant his feet enough to roll them both, pinning Oz to the ground. She held on tightly, her arm still around his neck.
Oz didn’t want to harm him, she only needed him to pass out so they could continue to the train, but she struggled to maintain her grip. She felt him losing his fight, but before she could finish the job, he slammed his head down on her face. She instinctively loosened her hold, which was enough for him to slither free.
Liquid, Oz couldn’t tell if it was blood or snot gushed from her nose. Sweat from her forehead ran into her eyes making them burn. She dragged herself upright and grabbed the man by his booted foot, tripping him and stopping his forward momentum.
“Get off me.” He kicked back viciously but this time missed Oz’s face.
One last surge and he reached the gun still lying in the dirt. It felt like a slideshow clicking together into a whole as Oz watched him lunge, his hand reach the gun, the flash of steel in the sunlight, and a knife plunge into the man’s hand, pinning it to the ground.
“Fuck.” Frankie and the man yelled simultaneously. Frankie put her hand to her mouth, her eyes wide with horror.
Oz scrambled to her feet and pulled her own weapon. She motioned Frankie to retrieve his. Once it was secure, she gave him a quick, sharp blow to the back of the head, knocking him unconscious.
“Don’t say anything.” Frankie looked shell-shocked.
Oz nodded. She pulled the knife from the man’s hand and wiped the blood on his shirt. He had a bandana in his pocket which she wrapped tightly around his hand. It was quickly blood-soaked but he wasn’t bleeding enough to be life-threatening.
Her hands shook slightly as she placed a nine-one-one call and reported his location and condition. He was a hired hand like she was. No need for him to lie out here in pain longer than necessary.
“Time for us to catch our ride.” Oz took Frankie’s hand again.
“You need some clean up. You look awful.” Frankie squeezed Oz’s hand.
“Thank you. I do what I can to impress.” Oz wiped her free hand across her nose, trying to staunch what she now knew was blood. She urged Frankie on.
“Thank you.” Frankie’s voice was serious and sincere. “You saved my life.”
“Don’t thank me yet, we still need to get out of here.” Oz pointed to the train tracks close by.
They didn’t have far to go now, but there were more people in this part of the yard and they needed to wait for a train. Frankie fidgeted next to Oz as they lurked in the shadows cast by the towering stacks. A train whistle sounded and Oz saw it slowly groan into motion. “That’s our ride. Follow me.” She stuck as close to the container walls as possible, but they had to risk being seen to make sure they made it.
She approached the moving train with Frankie right behind and raced alongside. The train was picking up speed, and soon it would be out of reach. “You have to jump and grab there.” Oz shouted as loudly as she dared and pointed at a three-step ladder on the end of the nearest rail car.
Frankie looked terrified but did as instructed. She reached for the first rung and missed. She stumbled and Oz let out a horrified squeak, but thankfully Frankie stayed on her feet. Oz silently urged her to try again, quickly. They didn’t have much longer. She looked behind her and saw three men burst from one of the rows. Oz angled as best she could to shield Frankie from the imminent barrage of bullets, but it was difficult while sprinting all-out.
On her second attempt, Frankie grabbed the ladder and scrambled up. Oz chided herself for noticing Frankie’s ass. Better to fill her mind with smut than the fact that what she was about to attempt was insane and would likely kill her.
The train tipped over into moving faster than Oz could keep up with. It was now or never. She lunged and caught the ladder and was immediately pulled off her feet. Her arm screamed its protest. She bounced uncomfortably off things not meant for human bodies. She heard Frankie calling her name. All she could do was kick and claw her way back to the ladder. The muscles in her hands and forearms were burning, but she held on for dear life until she was, finally, able to get her feet back on the lowest rung.
She held on, hugging the ladder and not moving, for what could have been miles or only the blink of an eye. When she stopped shaking enough that it felt safe to move, she pulled herself the rest of the way up and joined Frankie on a small deck just above the coupling connecting the cars in front and behind.
“Don’t do that again.” Frankie’s eyes still held the shadow of anxiety and adrenaline. “You’re too hot to get smashed under a train. Someone like you deserves an open coffin.”
Oz barked out a laugh. Frankie’s dark humor was exactly what she needed to release some of her own fear. “I make no promises and it’s all your fault. My life was boring until I met you.”
“The pleasure is all yours.” Frankie held out her hand as if offering it for a kiss.
“Somehow I don’t doubt that.” Oz took her hand and brought it close to her lips. She didn’t kiss her hand, although she wanted to, but she played along with Frankie’s game.
It worked. Frankie batted her eyes and laughed, as close to relaxed as Oz figured was possible on a train running for her life.
“What does the hedge fund have to do with InvestBioX?” Oz shifted so she was more comfortable. Her thigh brushed against Frankie’s. It sent a shiver through her stomach.
Frankie made no move to put distance between them. Oz tried not to read into it.
“I don’t know, yet. I have a theory, which is why I need you to keep me alive, something you’re doing a very good job of, by the way.”
Oz tipped an imaginary hat. They rode together in silence as the miles flew past. Oz wasn’t sure where they were going or how to get the proof Frankie needed, but for now they were safe. Until the train slowed, they were at the mercy of the tracks. Protecting Frankie felt a little like this ride. Life had thrown her onto a moving train with no map or schedule and expected a miracle. Oz looked at Frankie, her profile framed artistically by the setting sun. She shouldn’t, she couldn’t, but damn if she wasn’t starting to enjoy the ride.