“Is there another way out?” Two-Step asked.
“There are bigger loading docks past the security station. And there’s more there, so this is it.”
“Great. You have a plan?”
He had a plan. Not a good one, but a plan.
“I’m going to rush through the doors. I’ll get through before they can react, and when they come after me, you shot them.”
“And the guards on the other side?” Two-Step asked.
“I’ll deal with them.”
Sandy shook her head. “That’s a shitty plan.”
“I agree,” Kat said.
“Got anything better?”
“I could go,” Two-Step said.
“No. I know what’s on the other side of the doors. Besides, you have the chip.”
“You have the code.”
Jacob took his backpack off and handed it to Two-Step. “Wait,” he said. He opened the backpack and took out his code deck, scanned his tattoo, and sent some amphetamine code to his chip. “Now you have both. Don’t get shot,” he said, returning the deck to his backpack.
He figured it was about ten feet from the corner to the doors; he should be able to clear that before getting shot.
“Ready?”
Sandy and Two-Step raised their weapons and nodded.
He ran for the doors, his pistol ready, trying to block everything else out of his mind, the sound of the alarms, the sound of his boots hitting the tile. There was nothing but the doors and his determination to reach them. He passed the corner, going full speed into the hall leading to the security station. He could feel the hall open beside him, hear the shouts of the guards. A shot echoed and hit the wall on his left. Another shot grazed his left calf, and he fell through the doors as much as he pushed through them.
There was no pain, only a surge of amped-up adrenaline as he stumbled into the loading bay. The second security station was also on the right. A pallet with cases of coffee beans sat in front of him on the edge of the dock. He went for the pallet, turning toward the security station. The two guards there were getting up. He fired twice and ducked behind the pallet. Several shots sounded from the other side of the doors.
“The guards are down,” Sandy said in his ear.
A shot hit the pallet, sending coffee beans across the floor.
“Don’t come out yet,” he said.
He moved to the other side of the pallet. A delivery truck sat in the loading bay. He had to get down to the front of the truck to draw the guards away from the door so Sandy and Two-Step could come out.
He peered around the pallet. The guards had split up, and he could only see one of them heading along the other side of the loading dock. He looked around the other side of the pallet but still couldn’t see the second guard. He must be trying to work his way around the front side of the pallet.
The first guard made his way down a ramp leading to the floor of the loading bay. Jacob fired. Pieces of the wall behind the guard sprayed out, and he ran for a stack of boxes at the end of the ramp.
A shot hit the top of the pallet.
The second guard was getting closer.
It was a five-foot drop from the top of the dock to the bay floor. Jacob fired in the direction he thought the shot came from and jumped down, trying to land with most of his weight on his right foot. His right leg couldn’t take all of his weight, and pain shot up his leg when his left foot landed. He ignored it and made his way to the front of the truck.
“One guard near the pallet just outside the door. The second is down the ramp to the right,” he said.
“Got it,” Sandy said.
The doors burst open. Shots filled the loading bay.
“He’s down,” Sandy said.
He made it to the front of the truck. He could see the leg of the second guard sticking out from the stack of boxes.
“Do you see that stack of boxes at the bottom of the ramp?”
“Yes.”
“Fire into it.”
The boxes began to fly apart in a spray of blue liquid. The guard started to inch back. Jacob knelt and took the shot. The guard fell back, landing in a puddle of the blue liquid.
The loading dock was quiet.
“Get in the truck,” he called.
Two-Step and Sandy met him at the front of the truck.
“You’re bleeding,” Sandy said.
Blood stained the bottom of his pants leg and had soaked his socks and was pooling in his boot. “One of you will have to drive,” he said.
“I will,” Two-Step said and got in the driver's seat.
In the cab, Jacob took out his deck and connected with the truck.
“You sure you can drive?” Sandy asked Two-Step as she tried to get comfortable in the middle of the seat.
“I learned to drive when I was eleven. We had a bunch of old cars and trucks converted to run on vegetable oil in the community. I would drive my dad’s truck all the time.”
Jacob connected to the truck’s system and started it, setting it to be driven manually.
“All right, at the end of the tunnel is a checkpoint. You’re going to plow through it,” he said.
“No problem,” Two-Step said as the truck lurched forward.
Two-Step accelerated down the tunnel. The truck’s safety system began to warn him. “You have reached an unsafe speed for this environment. Reinstate self-driving mode for safety reasons.”
“Can you turn that off?” Two-Step asked.
“Just ignore it,” Jacob said.
“How bad is your leg?” Sandy asked.
“It’s fine.”
She removed her shirt and ripped off the sleeve. “This might hurt,” she said. She wrapped the sleeve around his calf and tied it tight.
He felt real pain now and unsuccessfully tried to stifle a “Shit.”
“Sorry.” She reached in his backpack and pulled out his deck. “I think a painkiller is in order.”
He nodded and she scanned his tattoo and sent the code.
“Warning,” the truck’s driving system said. “Barrier in fifty meters. Decelerate to avoid a collision.”
“You really can’t shut that
