“Fuck, they’re running,” Blade spits out, moving to follow.
“Wait. I’ve got the tape. The fucking place is burning.” Ripper holds up the tape in his good hand. “Get Faith.”
“I need my glasses!” I scramble to my feet. My thigh aches like crazy, and something’s trickling down the side of my face, but I step around glass shards on the floor to get them. Thankfully not broken.
“Fuck, this guy’s still alive,” says Alpha, his fingers on the pulse of the guy with the knives buried in his chest. The Pit Viper wheezes hoarsely.
“Leave him,” snaps Blade. “We gotta get out of here.”
I don’t care if they think it’s stupid, but there’s one thing I won’t leave. I dash past the guys into my bedroom and rip Ollie off the bed. I shove him into a backpack from my closet, along with my small treasure box of mementos and my phone. Ripper’s right on my heels with a murderous look on his face.
“I’m done! I’m done!” I scream at him, dashing back out to the living room. Alpha’s at the stairs with the Pit Viper over his shoulder while Blade glares at him.
“Everybody move!” Ripper yells, shoving me in the back with his stump. “Now!”
My feet are barely off the last step when the kitchen explodes with a boom. Windows shatter and a fireball tears through the living room, lighting up the stairwell like an apocalyptic sunrise. The pressure wave pushes me into the wall.
“Fuck,” yells Alpha. Blade’s already at the front door, rushing us through.
All my books. The bookstore that was my dream. My entire freaking home—it’s all going to burn, and there’s nothing I can do about it. Clutching the few things I managed to save, I run for my life.
9
FAITH
“To the bikes,”Alpha bellows as we charge out of the burning building. He drops the guy he’s carrying in the gutter, leaving him to his fate. My stomach twists as Blade reaches down and yanks out his knives, wiping them against his jeans before secreting them away again.
“Aren’t you supposed to leave them in? I thought—”
He looks at me with dangerously flat eyes. “Hear that? Emergency shit is already on the way. You more worried about this piece of crap who was fine with doing fuck knows what to you, than us?”
“N—no. I just…” I don’t know what I’m thinking. I’m trying not to.
Lights flick on in all the buildings around us, and people are already milling around on the sidewalk, watching and talking into their phones. The whole neighborhood is going to be chaos in a couple of minutes.
“We gotta get out of here,” snaps Blade.
On that at least, we agree. I snatch the tape out of Ripper’s hand and drop it into my bag. “Let’s go.”
“Faith—”
“Let her have it,” says Alpha. “We can talk about it later. We don’t have time to fuck around. Last I checked, the cops don’t like stabbings or shootings, and we’ve done a little of A and a little of B.”
Blade is the first astride his bike. It’s pure black with silvery chrome edging, and growls like an angry predator when he starts it. “Get on.”
No time to worry about the implications of riding behind him. I swing my leg over his bike and grab onto him, just as Alpha kicks back the stand on his bike and Ripper slots his wrist into the attachment that lets him control his as easily as someone with both hands might.
Two things happen at once: a gunshot cracks, the sound cutting through the billowing smoke, and Alpha grunts, his shoulder knocked sideways, almost pushing him off the bike.
“Fuck!” Ripper shouts. “We’re going, now!”
People scream and run away as more shots are fired. An angry buzz that’s definitely not a bee whizzes past my ear, and with a shriek, I bury my face into the back of Blade’s jacket. His muscles flex under my hands as the four of us peel away from the fiery remnants of my life.
As soon as we hit the road, the guys open up their throttles. The bikes roar like a pride of furious lions, and I clutch onto Blade for dear life. We leap forward, and it’s all I can do to hang on. For as many times as I’ve ridden on the back of a motorcycle, it’s never been like this. They are fleeing the scene of a crime, not going for a Sunday drive.
My eyes water and the scenery blurs as wind whips my face. They pay no attention to the rules of the road. If a car comes out of a side road now, we’re screwed, but at least it’s the middle of the night. We might just get lucky.
Digging my nails in, I risk a glance over my shoulder. Flames shoot high, casting a glow into the sky over the whole neighborhood. There’s going to be no rescuing that. Everything I don’t have with me is gone, or will be by the time they manage to put it out. All I can hope for now is that it doesn’t spread. I don’t want to feel responsible for my neighbors losing their homes and businesses, too.