Page 59 of Talk to Me

No.

No. No. No. No.

The sound of the klaxon threatened to split open my skull. I made it another staggering step and there was a man there. A guard.

No.

He seized my arm and went to wrench it behind me. I twisted with the movement. I didn’t have the strength to shake him off. So I just let gravity work, as I tangled my legs with his and tried to pull him down.

Not that it proved successful, he caught me with a backhand before he wrenched me to my feet. I swore I was dangling with just my tiptoes touching the floor. When he shook me, I wanted to scream.

Another blow, then he slammed me against the wall. The impact knocked all the air out of me. My ribs screamed. My body screamed. My voice died.

Nothing came out as I raked my jagged, broken fingernails across his face. He swore, one hand locking around my throat as he banged my head on the wall. He drew back his other fist…

Then a bullet ripped through his skull, tearing it apart and spattering me with blood. The fist on my throat went slack along with his expression and then he collapsed.

I still couldn’t make a sound as the klaxon kept shrieking and I turned my head to where the bullet came from.

Impossible.

“Get her,” McQuade snapped as he strode forward, gun raised. Then it was firing. The sound a staccato counterpoint to the wild beat of my heart. Men coming out of the elevator went down, blood speckling the walls behind them.

Or at least I thought it was blood. The red lights made it hard.

A hand brushed my bare arm and I turned to find Locke standing right there.

Locke.

McQuade.

What the hell were they doing here?

How were they here?

“Hey, Patch,” he said, flicking a glance past me before sliding my arm up and over his shoulder. “My turn to watch your ass.”

They were really here.

This wasn’t a trick?

Then a faint smile curved Locke’s lips. “Talk to me?”

“Later Romeo, get Sugar Bear and let’s get the fuck out of here.” McQuade was in front of me again. His dark eyes swept me over from head to toe. “Then I’m coming back here and killing every single one of them.”

Good plan.

“I’m going to pass out now,” I managed. “Sorry.”

Then I dropped.

Chapter

Nineteen

REMINGTON

The patience of the sniper lay in the ability to wait minutes, hours, days, and weeks if necessary for the shot. I could wait an eternity if necessary.