Chapter 32 - Shot in the Dark

The explosions had come too soon. Gage had thought he would have to take out the man threatening Deira, which had distracted him from the targets at the other end of the lot. It also meant he was looking in the right direction when the second man began firing. Emptying his mind, he set his sight for the shooter. He took a breath and checked the sight again, then fired. The man dropped to the pavement.

Workers raced across the parking lot and jumped into their cars. Tires squealed as they raced for the exit. More people poured out through the loading dock. Their fear and confusion added to the chaos.

He had no time to look for Deira. She was on her own. He calmly located Butch, re-sighted, and fired. The shot was not perfect, but Butch went down. That was all that mattered.

Getting a clear shot at the remaining targets proved difficult. One of them had grabbed a worker and was using him as a shield. Gage waited, ticking off the seconds without thinking about it. He needed to finish soon. The target turned to yell at someone, opening a gap between him and his hostage. Gage had no time for a second look. He fired. The hostage fell to the ground screaming, but not because he had been hit. People rarely responded well when covered with brains.

Two down. The first two did not count. He scanned the parking lot for Cavuto but could not locate him. He was there somewhere – or ought to be. The guard had confirmed his arrival. Time was running out. He would have to take out the other targets and hope Cavuto surfaced.

It was easy to find the remaining thugs. They were the ones shooting back. They didn't have his range, but were still too close. Deira had been heading for the trees. If the first shooter had not taken her out, the others might. He did not want to think about it. Could not. There was a job to do.

He picked up the rifle and collapsed the tripod. He moved further up the hill at an angle to the loading dock until he found the right spot. He searched for Cavuto's bodyguards. They would not be far from their boss.

They shouldn't have worn suits. It made them easier to find. He looked through the scope, picking out the one further away. He hadn't needed Deira to identify Jamie Kittredge. The little bastard was well known for his rage and his sadistic treatment of women.

He took the time to sight again, then pulled the trigger. Kittredge moved at the last second. The shot missed. True to form, Kittredge began firing wildly, hitting one of the workers. Those who had not made it to their cars dove for cover or hit the ground. Most of them would be used to gunfire.

The second shot was cleaner and hit as intended. Kittredge crumpled, his hands clutching his stomach. He might live, though with that much damage it was doubtful. He would suffer either way.

Another bomb went off. He was sure he had heard all ten detonate. This time, the ground shook. What did she do? The next explosion was bigger and took off part of the roof on the other side of the building. Some of the workers who had gotten to their feet were now covering their faces and stumbling around blindly. Others were ripping off jackets or shirts. Those who had not apparently gone insane were once again running for their cars.

Sranje. The chemical vats had blown. He stood far enough away that burns would be unlikely. It gave him little comfort. The air sparkled. The wind shifted, or maybe the explosion had pushed the air. It did not matter which. He knew what was coming next. One more and it is done.

He could finally see Cavuto, running for his truck. He would have done better to carjack one of his employees. Gage looked through the scope, following Cavuto's movements. He had no qualms about shooting the man in the back. He took a deep breath, then another. One of the blinded workers got in the way of the shot. Gage waited and a few seconds later took aim. His hands began to shake, just slightly. Trying to still them made it worse. If he fired, he would miss – or hit the wrong person. He had run out of time.

It was too dark to see the sparkling particles settle into his skin. He breathed deeply, taking in the poison. The sickness sang in his blood. It was good to be alive.

He lowered the rifle, grabbed the tripod, and ran for the truck. He put the equipment in the back and covered it with a blanket. Then he looked around for Deira.

She should have been waiting for him. He raced towards the trees, heart pounding. His vision was sharper than it had been for years, but he could not see her. She was smart enough to not make any noise. He slowed down once he got to the trees, scanning the ground, not wanting to think about what he might find yet unable to stop. Light glinted off of something metal on the ground. He crept forward.

They were lying still, two bodies in the darkness. The reflection came from the end of Sticks' cane. He stepped over it. Screams echoed from the parking lot. Sirens joined them, getting closer. He leaned over. Sticks wheezed through clenched teeth. Deira's hand rested on his hip. Her eyes were closed.

Animal rage rose up, demanding. He growled, then shoved it down. She was breathing. Blood seeped through her fingers. He bent down and placed his hand over hers. She opened her eyes and pointed her gun at him. He froze. She lowered the gun.

"I need to see."

"He'll die."

"We will all die if we do not leave right now." He pushed her hand away.

The wound looked bad, maybe fatal. He had seen men survive worse, but not without immediate attention. He stripped off his shirt and pressed it on the wound. Deira got to her feet, strangely graceful.

"Keep pressure on that. We have to get him back to my truck." He lifted Sticks.

The walk back to the truck took an eternity. The sirens got closer, overpowering the cries of the injured workers. Deira opened the door, climbing in as Gage laid Sticks on the back seat. He used a bungee cord to secure the shirt. Sticks tried to scream but it came out a choked cry. A moment later, he passed out.

"We need his keys."

"They'll be in the ignition. He says no one would bother stealing his truck."

"You will have to drive it." He stepped aside so she could get out of the truck, balling his hands into fists so he did not reach out for her.

"I'll follow you to the hospital."

"No hospital."

"Well, you can't patch this up on your kitchen table."

"No. We are going to your place. A doctor will be waiting."

She panicked. "My place is even worse!"

"Not your apartment, the storefront. There's no time to argue. Get in the damned truck!" he yelled. No one would hear him over the sirens. Cavuto would be long gone, and all other threats had been neutralized.

She turned and ran into the trees. He ground his teeth and got into the truck, looking over his shoulder to check on Sticks. She would be heartbroken if the old man died. It was a distinct possibility. When he turned back, she skirted the edge of the woods. Under her arm, she carried Sticks' cane. A gallon jug was in her hand. Details. He started the truck and pulled up as she angled the battered pickup out of the trees.

They passed through the gate, headlights still off. The moon gave enough light to see the road. The sirens were very close. He eased onto the access road and turned on his headlights. She did the same.

They were half-way to the exit when the first police cars turned onto the road. He did not stop, but pulled to the edge of the lane and coasted. They blew by without slowing. Fire trucks followed, ambulances close behind.

He kept his speed down, knowing that each minute wasted brought Sticks closer to death. The flashing lights disappeared down the road. He sped up. As they approached the exit, two more police cars turned onto the road and slowed. He tried to control his breathing, to no avail. He fought the urge to stomp down on the accelerator. It would not help. There was no way they would make it out.

The flashing lights went dark. Inside the cars, the officers stared forward, not one turning to look at the trucks. They sped up, passing the abandoned road. It was almost enough to make him believe in miracles. If God was looking out for him tonight, he would not waste the blessing. Sticks coughed, then whimpered. Gage turned onto the main road and slammed the gas pedal to the floor, hoping for another miracle.

He had to slow once they were on the highway. If he got pulled over for speeding with a car full of guns and a dying man, not even God would be able to save him. He pushed the button on his headset and called Nicky.

"Is it done?"

"No time. Get The Medic and meet me at Deira's apartment. Security is six, seven, zero, five, three, five, one. First floor door is unlocked. Open the gate to the back yard."

"Deira?" Nicky's voice cracked.

"Sticks."

"What the fuck?!"

"No. Time!" He hung up. Let there be time.

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Deira caught up to him on the highway. Her body trembled, screaming for movement. Cars raced up behind her, the headlights too bright. She blinked away tears. All she could think about was the blood – on the pavement, her hands, Sticks. The bullets had been meant for her. He had been hit because of her, was dying in place of her. This was not how it was supposed to be.

She gripped the steering wheel harder to stop her hands from shaking. The other cars blurred into streaks of light and color. She focused on the taillights of Gage's truck, silent screams in her head urging him to go faster. She opened the window, flooding the car with cold air. She took a deep breath, the first since the cloud of pump had surrounded her. They had forgotten the masks.

Details. She could hear his voice as if he were sitting right next to her. She laughed hysterically. By the time they pulled off the highway, the laughter had dissolved into choking sobs.

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The tension in his shoulders dissolved as he made the turn onto Deira's street. Ragged breathing from the back seat told him Sticks yet lived. For now.

He pulled into the back yard. The motion detector flooded it with light. The door flew open. Nicky and The Medic ran to the truck, carrying a stretcher. Gage helped load Sticks, tilting his head towards the pickup as it pulled in behind them. Nicky nodded and stepped away. She was a very good soldier.