The city feels wrong.
Too quiet between bursts of gunfire.
Like everyone here is waiting for something worse.
Lucas slows near an intersection clogged with destroyed vehicles.
Smoke drifts through the street ahead.
Fresh.
“Recent fighting,” he mutters.
Then—
Movement.
A figure stumbles from an alleyway ahead.
Female.
Young.
Covered in dirt and blood.
Lucas brakes immediately.
The girl nearly collapses against the front of the truck before I’m out the door moving toward her.
She can’t be older than fifteen.
Maybe sixteen.
Terror fills her eyes when she sees armed men rushing toward her.
“It’s okay,” I say quickly, lowering my rifle. “We’re not with them.”
Her breathing turns ragged anyway.
She’s shaking so hard her knees almost give out beneath her.
I catch her before she hits the pavement.
And then she says one word that stops my heart cold.
“Doctor.”
Every muscle in my body locks.
I grip her shoulders carefully.
“What doctor?”
Tears spill down her dirt-streaked face instantly.
“The American doctor.”
Hannah.
