Page 164 of Flint’s Strike

Ten minutes. I’m ten minutes away from where I hope they took Eliot. The lights and siren help, but it’s still rush hour, and too many people ain’t got the proper respect for emergency vehicles.

I lay on the horn as Last Nerve flashes across my phone screen. Nate.

“Tell me you have good news.” My voice cracks as I weave around an SUV with zero intention of pulling over. If I weren’t going a good ten miles an hour over the speed limit, I’d flip him off for good measure.

“I’m five minutes behind you. Do not go into that building alone, Parker. Please.”

“What the fuck are you doing? I need you at your computer. Running things.” My throat clogs, and my eyes start to burn. “Goddammit, Nate. You’re the only one I trust⁠—”

“I delegated. Zephyr’s pulling blueprints. AFD’s got four engines and a rescue unit rolling. Two battalion chiefs on the way. Fourteen minutes. Maybe less.”

The distinctive sound of the Impala’s horn through my speakers cuts through the roar of my heartbeat in my ears.

“I see smoke!” Wisps of pale gray against an even paler blue sky send my pulse skyrocketing. “Nate…”

“Got the blueprints!”

I throw the car into park in front of the rusted school sign, pop the trunk, and reach for the only weapon I have besides my pistol. The tire iron ain’t much, but if I have to fight my way inside, I’ll do it.

“Where would they have him?”

One of the windows explodes, and a rush of bright orange flame licks up the far side of the building. “Shit!”

“Kurt says the fire’s gonna funnel to the west side of the building. It’s newer construction over there. Christ. Eliot’s report from this afternoon. The sprinklers on that side of the building are capped.” He blasts the horn again and shouts, “Get out of my fucking way!”

I sprint for the nearest door. “I’m goin’ in.”

“No! Four minutes.” Nate’s voice shatters on the last word. “Seven for AFD. Wait, Park. Please.”

“Eliot doesn’t have four minutes. Nate, if I don’t…” I swallow a sob. “I never told you…”

His voice goes quiet. “You never need to. I know.”

Heat pours from the building in waves, each pulse stealing more of the oxygen inside. I stay low, the smoke already making my eyes water.

Something moves in my periphery. A shadow across the school yard. The shot cuts through the roar of the flames. I tuck and roll, my phone bouncing out of reach as I pull my gun, and come up firing.

The man staggers. Two more shots, center mass, and he crumples to the ground.

I don’t stop to grab the phone. Just the tire iron.

The door’s locked. I don’t have time to pick it. Ten feet away, a classroom window showcases some sort of student art project. This part of the building’s older. It’ll break. It has to break. I holster my weapon, wrap both hands around the tire iron, and swing with everything I have.

The window shatters, glass bouncing across the classroom floor. The stench hits me in the face. Smoke mixed with something harsh and chemical that catches in the back of my throat. My eyes are burning with every blink.

Ignore it. Push past it. West side. I have to get to the west side.

But if I don’t check every door… What if Gabe doesn’t know how fire moves? What if Kurt didn’t tell him?

I grab my shirt with one hand, right above my double belt, and tug it up until it covers my mouth. It won’t help for long. I don’t need long. I need Eliot.

Halfway down a long hallway, and I’m already wheezing. I try to stay low, but my legs are starting to shake. My mouth tastes like metal.

The building groans, a long, low sound. I try to call his name, but it comes out as a weak, hoarse croak.

The classroom doors are all open. I don’t bother checking them.

“Senator Dines wants Eliot to burn.”