Page 39 of Faron
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River
10:42 p.m. – Southeast District – Mobile Trauma Unit HQ
“Why do they always pick the buildings with no lighting and a hundred hiding spots?” Raven muttered.
Doctor Kline’s mobile unit sat behind a condemned church. Peeling paint, shattered windows, a flickering floodlight barely holding on.
Cyclone tapped his tablet. “Three heat signatures. No movement outside. She’s still in there.”
I knocked on the rear door, lowering my voice. “Doctor Kline, I’m River Channing. Blue Lightfoot sent us. You’re in danger.”
A slit opened. Her eyes narrowed. “She okay?”
“She’s alive. But you’re on a hit list. We need to move—now.”
She nodded. “Give me ten seconds to grab my kit. Two patients inside.”
“No time,” Cyclone warned, just as Raven stiffened.
“Movement. North wall. Two incoming. Armed.”
I kicked the door open. “Go!”
Gunfire erupted. Muzzle flashes sliced through the darkness.
Cyclone returned fire, dropping one. Raven flanked and took out the second.
I grabbed Kline and pulled her behind the SUV. “Stay low!”
Another truck roared in—Gage and Gideon. The rest was a blur of bullets, boots, and blood. Two minutes later, it was over.
Kline stared at us. “Who are you?”
“Friends of Blue’s,” I said. “The kind that doesn’t like losing.”
“Yeah, you remind me of Blue,” she said her body shaking.
Blue
Clinic – Midnight
I couldn’t sleep. Not with pain stitched across my ribs and fear curled in my gut like a second heart.
The door creaked.
I expected Faron.
But it was Emery. Calm as ever. Holding a thermos like it was a weapon against the night.
“Brought tea,” she said, setting it down beside me.
“Did they find her?”
Emery smiled. “Safe. The team got there just in time.”
I sagged back, tears burning my eyes. “How many more are on the list?”
