Page 72 of Relentless
“You should have minded your own business,” was all she heard before the hall went dark and two shots rent the night.
On instinct, she ducked as screams and shouts filled the air. The sound of equipment crashing to the ground echoed down the hall. She sent a silent plea that the crew had dropped everything in order to take cover and not because they’d been hit.
Another shot sounded, and the screams escalated. All around her frantic footsteps struggled to find a safe exit away from the violence—a tricky thing to do with the venue steeped in darkness. Behind her, a door slammed open and then closed with a bang.
She thought she heard Ethan’s voice calling for her, but it was lost in the panic and melee of the active shooting. She turned to call out to him, but someone bumped into her, sending her off balance. She reached out to steady herself and her hand connected with an arm. A man’s arm. She’d almost righted herself when whoever it was dipped his shoulder and rammed into her. Hard.
Her fingers scraped along the skin as she fell, and the air whooshed from her lungs as she landed on her side. For the first time since the lights went out and the shots had gone off, she felt real fear. She’d been in an active shooting situation before. The possibility of a stampede was very real. And being on the ground was the worst place to be. Especially in the dark.
As if responding to her fear with a big fuck-you, a booted foot connected with her stomach, sending her hurtling back several feet. Her body hit the wall with a bone-rattling impact, and her head collided with the hard concrete. Even in the dark, she felt her vision dim as pain exploded through her.
She tried to rise, but dizziness and nausea had her clinging to the floor. Instinct had her taking a deep breath to quell the urge to vomit, but pain sliced through her body. Panic threatened to take control as the reality of the situation sank its claws into her. If she let it take over, though, she’d never survive.
Closing her eyes, she fought to find some sort of control. Calling on all her mental strength, she sorted through her options and found a single thread to hold on to. Small. She needed to make herself small. It was her best, maybe her only, chance of survival.
Staying on the ground, she pressed her back to the wall and drew her legs up in front of her. People flew by, their frantic footsteps stumbling in the dark as they sought safety. Again, she thought she heard Ethan calling her. But still unable to draw anything more than the shallowest breath, she couldn’t respond.
Even without being able to call back, though, the knowledge that he was there and looking for her buoyed her spirits. Perhaps she could try to stand again. Or maybe crawl along the wall toward the door. Contemplating the possibility, she began to assess her injuries.
A bruised tailbone and a possible bruised spleen was as far as she got before a boot once again connected with her body.
She cried out as it hit her hip, shoving her to the side and back into the path of the fleeing crew. Then before she could get her bearings enough to scramble back to the wall, something—maybe another boot, maybe something harder—connected with her temple.
Her head snapped back and she fell prone on the floor. Almost immediately, a kick connected with her ribs, and waves of pain shot up her side. She tried to protect herself by curling into a ball, but another hit, this time to her other temple, tossed her across the hall.
As she lay on the cool, concrete floor, agony racked her body, clogging her thoughts. The screams and echoes of those fleeing the violence grew further and further away. Dimly, she recognized something warm sliding over her face. The part of her brain that still fought to stay in control knew it was blood. Her blood.
But before she could lift a hand to confirm, another blow to the back of her head sent her body spinning forward, and she slipped into darkness.
CHAPTERTWENTY-SEVEN
Ethan pushedhis way through the dark to where he thought the door might be. He hadn’t been very far away when the lights went out. If he kept moving straight, he should be close enough to locate it if he wasn’t right in front of it.
“Sorry, Warwick, I can’t let you leave,” Tia said from somewhere in front of him.
The darkness—and panic—had discombobulated him and it took him a moment to remember he had his phone. Pulling it out, he turned on the flashlight app and pointed it at the ground. Sure enough, Tia was standing four feet in front of him with her back to the door.
“Not up for discussion, Tia,” Ethan said, motioning for her to step aside. He’d physically remove her if he had to, but he didn’t want it to come to that.
“We open this door, we might let the shooter in. We’re in lockdown,” she replied. “I know Kara is out there, but I’m sorry.”
He didn’t give a rat’s ass if she was sorry or not, she wasn’t going to stop him.
“One more chance, Khatri. Move aside or I will move you myself. I amnotleaving Kara out there alone. Not with an active shooter and not with a killer on the loose.” A third shot rang out, and his heart leaped into his throat.
“I understand your instinct and I sympathize, but I can’t let you risk everyone in here.”
Her calm delivery pissed him off almost as much as her words. There was no way that she could understand his need to get to Kara. And her sympathy meant nothing to him.
Bending low, he stepped forward. Either she hadn’t expected him to escalate, or she’d expected a more direct attack. Regardless of which, his move caught her off guard and he lifted her from the waist and tossed her over his shoulder. He hoped her instincts kicked in and she tucked her head and rolled on landing, but he didn’t bother to stop and check. Two seconds later, he was out the door and in the dark hallway.
Terrified screams and shouts echoed through the space. He called Kara’s name but wasn’t sure if she’d be able to hear him. Shining his flashlight to the right, he caught a glimpse of people running toward him. It was only a glimpse, though. A second later, someone collided with his arm, sending his phone flying out of his hand. The beam of light rotated as it arced across the hall, then went dark when it landed light-down more than fifteen feet away.
At least his quick glance down the hall, and the spiraling beam of light from his phone, had confirmed Kara wasn’t to his right. Without hesitation, he turned left and began to feel his way along the wall as he called her name.
Ten steps down the hallway, he heard something that didn’t belong. The echoes of footsteps and fear faded as his ears tuned into what sounded like a fight. Or at least the sound of someone being hit. Whether the person being hit was hitting back, he didn’t know.
A grunt carried across the charged air, followed by the arrested sound of a kick connecting with something. With someone. And then, within the terror of the situation, he heard a whimper followed by a soft cry.
