Page 34 of Wild Temple

I tried to revive the girl with chest compressions again, but there wasn’t much time.

More goons stomped up the stairwell. Their footsteps echoed down the corridor.

It was time to go.

I scooped up Kelsey and carried her from the room. Rafi followed as we hurried down the hallway to the far steps.

We plunged down as two goons reached the top of the main stairwell at the other end of the hallway.

Rafi moved slow. Too slow.

I hit the first-floor landing, still cradling Kelsey. We raced down a long, dark corridor, past offices, to another steel door. I burst through it, stepping into the night air. I held the door open for Rafi, and he finally shuffled through. We sprinted down the sidewalk, heading back to the van.

The goons spilled onto the sidewalk as we rounded the corner.

Muzzle flash flickered, and bullets streaked through the night.

The blistering rounds of copper rocketed past my ears.

JD stomped the gas and pulled away from the curb. He screeched to meet us halfway down the block. We piled into the van, cramming into the back seat just as the goons rounded the corner.

More bullets sprayed in our direction, pelting body panels. One drilled through the front windshield and exited the back. The bullet threaded the needle between me and Rafi’s head.

Brooke crouched low, and so did we.

Sirens swirled in the distance, drawing near.

Jack stomped the gas.

The little four-banger didn't have much power. It purred to a dull growl. Jack crouched low behind the dash.

One of the thugs darted into the street, blocking the path. He took aim and opened fire.

Bullets peppered the hood and front windshield.

Glass shattered, and shards rained down.

We all made ourselves small.

The headlights swept across the thug, and Jack plowed right into the son-of-a-bitch. The impact sent him onto the hood.

Clunk!

Clank!

Metal buckled.

The dirtbag smashed the front windshield, webbing it with cracks. More shards trickled down.

The goon rolled off the car, the side-view mirror smacking his rib cage.

He flopped to the ground, then staggered to his feet as Jack rounded the corner. Tires squealed, and the little four-cylinder howled.

More gunshots flew in our direction, shattering the back windshield and peppering more body panels.

My heart pounded with adrenaline, every nerve alive with the chaos. "Is everybody okay?"

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