I hop up and slide across the hood of a car, landing on the other side, staying down as Zane fires a few more rounds. When there’s another lull I pop back up, the angle better now, only a building behind Zane, and I take careful aim and squeeze the trigger twice and one of my bullets grazes his arm.
The kids are now a block ahead of us, David looking like he’ll never slow down. I start toward them but Zane shoots wildly again. I drop down behind the car, wait for the next lull. When it happens and I stand up, Zane has taken off up the block, sprinting after David and Casey, the children already halfway up the second block.
David looks back quickly, sees Zane coming, pushes himself even harder. Between the buildings is an alleyway and he ducks into it, taking his sister with him, the two disappearing and leaving Zane a block behind them, running even faster.
I start after them.
Zane reaches the alleyway, disappears inside.
One block away, pushing myself, a half block away, almost there, and I’m running so fast, the kids so close, I don’t pause to think about what I should do next, I just do it.
Coming up to the edge of the alley, pressing myself against the building, raising the gun, listening a moment. Hearing nothing. Then turning, bringing the gun around, but Zane is already there, waiting for me, knocking it out of my hands, the Beretta clattering to the sidewalk, Zane grabbing the front of my shirt, throwing me to the ground.
“Where’s the flash drive, Holly?”
I have a split second to notice that this alleyway leads to a dead end. Maybe fifty feet from the street, it ends in a brick wall. The children are there, crouched around some trashcans.
“Where’s the fucking flash drive?”
When I don’t answer, Zane reaches down, picks me up by my hair, drags me forward. I kick my feet, reach up and press my nails into his skin. He yells out, lets go, turns and kicks me in my side. Falling to his knees, he wraps his hands around my throat, leans in close.
“Where’s the motherfucking flash drive?”
I bring my right foot up, connect my knee with his head, send him reeling. Sitting up, I lean forward, reaching for the Kimber strapped to my ankle, but Zane is already on his feet, grabbing me by my hair again, dragging me forward.
“Don’t make me kill you in front of these kids, Holly.”
Dragging me, strands of hair being ripped from my scalp, Zane notices me trying to reach again for my ankle and stops. Lets go of my hair. Kicks me again in the ribs. Reaches down, lifts up my pant leg, seizes the Kimber and holds it up in front of my face.
“Always with the same tricks, huh?” He smacks me in the face with the gun. “Always with the same fucking tricks.”
He tosses the gun away, behind a trio of trashcans. Cocks his head at me, shakes it and says, “You are one stupid bitch, you know that?”
Stands up, lifts back his foot and kicks me again in the ribs.
“Where.”
Kick.
“Is.”
Kick.
“The.”
Kick.
“Flash drive!”
Despite the pain, despite at least one broken rib, I manage to turn my body on his last attempted kick. I grab his foot and twist.
He loses his balance, falls to the ground. It doesn’t slow him, though; he’s back on his feet even before I can sit up and he reaches down again, grabs me not by the hair this time but by my shirt, pulls me to my feet.
Leaning in close, his breath hot, he says, “I am not fucking around here.”
He says, “I will kill these kids.”
He says, “I will break every single bone in their bodies.”
He starts to say something else and that’s when I spit, the saliva going right into his mouth. Zane scrunches up his face in disgust, pushes me back toward the trio of trashcans. I stumble, can’t catch my balance, fall right into them. The sound is immense, the pain even more so. The back of my head knocks against the cement and I see stars for a moment, just floating there in front of my face, and then I feel a pressure on my chest, Zane’s knee there, pushing down, his hands crawling around my body, searching my pockets.
“Where is it? Where the fuck do you have it?”
He finds it seconds later, feeling it there in my breast pocket, the flash drive, his eyes lighting up, a smile creeping onto his face, pulling it out and then holding it up, the faint light just enough to illuminate the gold.
The flash drive disappears into his fist. His eyes shift down to meet mine. “You’ve just made me a very happy man, Holly.” He smiles again. “Now to thank you, I’m going to give you the chance to choose which kid dies first.”
He steps away and I try to sit back up, my body not cooperating, wanting to shut down. Zane turns back, says, “I don’t think so,” and kicks me again, the tip of his shoe connecting with my chin, sending me back to the ground.
The world goes in and out of focus. I think I can hear Atticus speaking in my ear, his voice tinny and faint. I think I can hear the children, screaming through the duct tape covering their mouths. I try to sit back up but can’t, my body completely useless. I lie there in the trash, turning my head to the left and to the right, to the left and to the right, to the left … and stop.
The discarded Kimber is only a few feet away.
I open my mouth, attempt to speak. Nothing comes out. I swallow, clear my throat, try again.
“Zane?”
The sound of his footsteps stop. “What?”
“Did you know it’s a dog-eat-dog world out there?”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“Scooter told me that.” I let loose a wild,
