SHADOWS OF THE OAT

body moves before I can think

walls, shattered glass on the floor, and my bl

thing hard under the nightstand-a burner phone. But the back is open

l, folded note. My heartbeat pounds as I r

ust your

n my spine. What

oordinates. I don't recognize

ess anything, the

uts through my ne

races. No one sho

person who le

ne ring

forcing myself

says, "federal agents

e floods

to the

ng lot. Tactical teams spread out, red

fou

oor. A calm, dea

you're inside. Come ou

think.

e into my pocket, grab

but I've escaped worse. Dust fills my lungs as I crawl in

he motel doo

ots stom

ne," som

ther replies. "He's ble

on't k

. The vent shakes under me, and I fr

I hea

cl

gun's safety

hecking t

ve.

as I push forward. I see an open

h

uns

explodes

the alley, rolling as I hit the ground. Pain explo

s rin

In the

ts dart acro

u

ery breath burns. Every step reminds me that I don't

nto a dumpster. They're not trying to

ed c

body moves like it remembers something my mind

ehind me. F

g containers, slowing my breat

w moves

't he

pe from the groun

crumples before he can fire. I don't give him a chance to

reaching fo

a hard strike to the

ands feels stra

his radio. "Target l

epping into

But something

is clipped to his ves

ff and rea

te mi

a normal

tice. It's about eli

the lo

d and move. My body runs on inst

, they don't want me arr

m my pocket, starin

my onl

e distance. More

me to

he night with one

e set

ing to fin