Page 96 of Smoke Screen
He lifted his arms, wrapping his hands around her skull as her feet came out from under her and the two of them careened to the ground.
“Oofff!”
She hit the sidewalk. The backs of his hands scraped against cement, his fingers curling into her hair, cradling her head.
The van roared by, tires squealing. A sudden wailing scream erupted. Maddy. The piercing shriek shredded Phin’s ears. Was she hit?
She continued howling, drowning out any sound beyond them.
They had to move. Fucking sitting ducks. And where was the van?
Phin swung his head left, peeping between the cars. No shooter that he could see. Didn’t mean anything since his view was limited. What he could see was Neck Tattoo facedown beside him.
Phin’s pulse slammed, blurring his vision while Maddy continued screaming.
They had to move. Had to.
“Maddy!” he said, his voice way harsher than he’d wanted, but he needed her focused.
She stopped screaming. Just shut up. That fast. Good.
He set his hands on either side of her head, pushing off of her, taking in her face and the surrounding sidewalk. No blood. “Are you hit?”
“I don’t … think so.”
“I don’t know where the van is,” he said. “We need to crawl to the street so I can see.”
And pray the shooter took off. With Main Street packed, they had to have bolted.
A horn blared, and Phin rolled off Maddy, looking over his shoulder. Black SUV. Zeke.
Phin hopped to his feet, clasped Maddy’s arms, and dragged her to her feet. “Zeke is here. Get in the car.”
He ripped open the rear door, shoved Maddy inside to safety.
Behind the wheel, Zeke focused on Phin. “Either of you hit?”
“No.” Phin shoved Maddy in. “Get down. On the floor.”
He slammed the door, then opened the front passenger one, ready to jump in. Neck Tattoo still lay unmoving on the sidewalk.
Sirens blared.
Close.
The firehouse was just a couple blocks away.
“I called 911,” Zeke said. “You can’t help him. Get in!”
Leaving the door open, he hustled to Neck Tattoo, felt for a pulse. Weak but there.
His phone sat on the ground beside him.
Evidence.
Seconds. That’s all it had been since Phin swiped that screen. The phone may not have gone to sleep yet.
If ever there was a time to break the law …
