Chapter 5 - THE UNEXPECTED ALLYI pulled myself up against the tire of the SUV, staring up at him through the pouring rain. I was out of options. Out of strength.
"Do it then," I spat, wiping rain and blood from my eyes. "Shoot me. But it's already over, Victor. The files were automatically mirrored to a cloud server the moment Detective Miller unlocked that drive. The FBI has everything."
Victor’s hand trembled, a split-second of hesitation flickering across his eyes. Was I bluffing? He couldn't know for sure. And that seed of doubt terrified him.
"You're lying!" he screamed, bringing the gun down to point directly between my eyes. "You're a lying little bitch!"
CLANG!
Out of nowhere, a heavy steel tire iron swung through the air, striking Victor directly in the back of his right knee.
Victor roared in pain, his leg buckling instantly under him. As he pitched forward, a shadowed figure stepped out from the torrential rain, swinging the tire iron a second time—this time catching Victor squarely across the side of his jaw.
Victor fell like a felled tree, his gun flying from his grip and splashing into a deep puddle several feet away.
I gasped, looking up at my savior.
Standing above Victor, breathing heavily, holding the dripping steel bar, was a young man in an emergency medical technician uniform. His badge read MARK - PARAMEDIC.
"Get away from her!" Mark yelled, keeping the tire iron raised as Victor groaned on the pavement, clutching his shattered jaw.
Mark looked down at me, his eyes wide with shock. "Violet? Are you okay?"
I recognized him instantly. Mark was an old high school acquaintance—someone who had always been kind to me, someone I hadn't seen in four years. He had been working the night shift on the ambulance dock when the lockdown was called.
"Mark..." I sobbed, the adrenaline finally washing out of my system, leaving me trembling violently in the freezing rain. "The drive... under the car..."
Mark didn't ask questions. He dropped to his knees, reached under the SUV, and dragged out the wet laptop. He grabbed me under the arms, lifting my weak, exhausted body onto my feet.
"Can you walk?" he asked urgently over the roar of the storm.
"I... I think so," I stammered.
Behind us, Victor began to push himself up from the ground. His jaw was hanging at an unnatural angle, blood pouring from his mouth, but his rage made him seem immune to pain. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a long, serrated hunting knife.
"I'll kill you both!" Victor gargled through his broken jaw, staggering toward us.
"In the ambulance, now!" Mark barked, half-carrying me toward a running rig parked nearby with its emergency lights flashing red and blue.
We scrambled into the back of the ambulance. Mark slammed the heavy rear doors shut and hit the internal lock just as Victor threw his body against the glass windows of the back doors.
Victor slammed his fists against the reinforced glass, smearing blood across the window, his distorted face looking like a demon trying to claw its way out of hell.
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"DRIVE!" Mark screamed through the partition window to his partner in the front seat. "GO, GO, GO!"
The ambulance engine roared, tires spinning on the slick pavement before catching traction. The heavy vehicle surged forward, knocking Victor off the rear bumper and throwing him hard onto the wet ground as we sped out of the hospital parking lot into the night.
