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 inhe 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 openh
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 grouncrumples 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