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I turned toward Farkas. His eyes were wide, jaw clenched, but he didn’t move.
Crack.
The first shot hit the water right next to me.
A geyser erupted, slapping my cheek with icy spray.
My heart punched against my ribs. My knees nearly buckled. I couldn’t hear anything but my pulse.
Crack.
Another round screamed past Thomas’s head. He ducked just in time, almost losing his footing as the current tugged at him. I saw him stumble, eyes blinking hard, like the world had gone sideways.
“Move!” I shouted.
They didn’t hear me.
A third flashlight appeared on the Hungarian side.
Another shout.
Crack-crack.
Now it was a barrage.
Sparrow screamed and pulled Eszter close. The girl didn’t cry. She didn’t even flinch. Her eyes were wide, her face pale, but she held on to Sparrow with white-knuckled fists.
Egret surged forward, pushing Thomas hard from behind.
The water was higher now. My coat pulled at me like it wanted to drown me itself.
“Get down!” I yelled, but there was no down, no cover, only cold and fear and gunfire.
Shadows shifted on the bank.
More lights.
More muzzle flashes.
I couldn’t tell how far we were from the other side, but we had to be close, maybe twenty feet.
Maybe less.
It felt like a thousand.
I reached out for Eszter, helping Sparrow drag her forward through the water. The girl was breathing hard, her feet kicking for purchase beneath her.
Another shot.
Closer this time.
I didn’t see where it splashed.
And then—Farkas turned.
He yanked away from my grip.
Away from the shore.