Page 25 of Resuscitation
“They’re coming from the other end of the county and with the storm. Are you in immediate danger?”
“No, but my partner is.”
“Ma’am, you need to leave. You and your patient should vacate the area. Now. If the gunman is smart, he’ll keep your partner alive as a hostage.”
Alyssa shook her head. No. She couldn’t just leave Blake…but the dispatcher was right, she was also responsible for Thomas.
“Buckle up, Thomas,” she told him as she fastened her own seat belt.
* * *
Blake breathedin through his nose, the ice-cold air burning his nostrils, held it for four seconds, then exhaled through his mouth and repeated the combat breathing process as he assessed the situation, considering his best options as time slowed down. A bead of sweat pooled at the base of Blake’s neck despite the freezing temperatures, but his heart slowed along with his breathing, giving him total focus. Old habits.
The gunman took an unsteady step toward Blake, then another. With the third, he hit a patch of ice and slipped, off balance for a brief instant.
Blake’s instincts kicked in. With one swift motion, he swept the impostor’s leg out from under him, sending him sprawling to the ground onto his back.
As he fell, the man fired wildly. Blake hit the cold asphalt and rolled behind the cop car. He caught sight of the ambulance.
Why was Alyssa still here? What the hell was she thinking? Hadn’t she seen the gunman?
He waved a hand, signaling for Alyssa to get out of there. The engine revved in response. Blake crawled around the police car. From his new vantage point, he saw the assailant struggle to regain his footing. More than ice was affecting his balance—he was losing blood, and his one leg didn’t seem able to hold his weight.
Blake rose into a crouch, about to move around behind the impostor to tackle him, when the ambulance wheels spun in the slush, skidding to a stop a few feet away, the cruiser between him and the gunman. Alyssa to the rescue—even if it was against all the rules and the stupidest thing she could have done. Blake figured he’d have time to yell at her later.
He wrenched open the passenger door and jumped in. The impostor cop had hauled himself up, using the cruiser for support. Blake slammed the door shut. “Go, go!”
Alyssa yanked the ambulance into reverse and hit the gas, sending the vehicle screeching backward just as their assailant swung his rifle in their direction.
“Contact!” Blake pushed Alyssa’s head down.
A shower of bullets peppered the ambulance windshield before it shattered completely, spewing pebbles of glass into the cabin and across the hood. Alyssa ducked down below the wheel, but Blake knew they had to keep moving.
He shoved the gearshift back into drive and reached his leg across the center console to stomp onto the accelerator, sending the ambulance jolting forward. While keeping his head as low as possible, he took the wheel. Alyssa pressed herself against the door to give him room. He steered in the direction of the gunman, bullets pinging relentlessly into the ambulance’s walls.
With a sudden thud, the ambulance hit the impostor’s body, sending him flying over the hood of the cruiser. The ambulance careened off the police car and skidded into a U-turn. Blake steered them back onto the road and drove a half mile down the road before pulling over into the empty parking lot of a strip mall. He heaved a breath in, adrenaline ebbing.
Safe, they were all safe.
“Did you get him?” Thomas called from the back.
Blake released his hands, clamped around the steering wheel, ignored the way they shook once they were free. “He’s down, not sure if he’s dead though. Guess that’s a problem for the cops.” He scooted back over to the passenger seat, then turned to Alyssa squashed between the door and the driver’s seat. “It’s okay, we’re?—”
Alyssa, her face pale and eyes in shock, held her hand up. Blood dripped down her palm.
Blake grabbed her arms, pulling her upright so he could check her for injuries. He didn’t have to look hard, quickly finding the entrance wound in the right side of her chest.
Their eyes met in the dim glow of the dashboard.
She was blinking fast in disbelief. “Blake? I think I’ve been shot.”
ChapterTwelve
Friday,February 13th, 8:48 P.M.
Sara climbed to her feet,fighting for control, taking care not to slip in Luca’s blood. He was a quiet man but always had a smile and baked pies for her staff when they had to work holidays. And…
She whirled on Mercer and his men. “You killed him!”
