Page 67 of Peak’s Code

"They're gone," Warden finally muttered.

"For now," Peak replied.

He slowly pushed himself up from the floor, every muscle protesting from where he'd thrown himself over Maeve after the shooting started. His gaze immediately found her. "You sure that you’re okay?" Maeve was already checking herself, methodical despite the adrenaline. She flexed her fingers, rolled one shoulder, and ran a hand along her side.

"Yeah,” she whispered.

"You sure?"

She met his eyes. "I'm sure." Peak allowed himself to breathe.

He crossed to the broken window, staying low beneath the frame. The parking lot sat empty. Rain washed away tire tracks almost as quickly as they formed. They'd known exactly how long to stay—long enough to send a message, but not long enough to get caught.

Peak studied the angle of the bullet holes around the room. One through the window. Three through the wall. Two buried in the dresser, and he frowned. "Warden."

"What?" he asked.

"Come look at this." The Enforcer joined him, and Peak pointed toward the wall above the bed.

"You were right—they weren't shooting to kill." Warden followed his line of sight. The rounds had grouped high—too high to be lethal. Any trained shooter aiming for center mass would've stitched bullets straight through the mattress. Instead, every shot had been placed to drive them away from the room.

Maeve stepped beside them. "They wanted us to run."

Peak nodded. "Exactly."

Warden scratched at his beard. "So Mercer calls, Captain disappears, they threaten a trade, and then somebody shoots up the motel." He looked between them.

"They're herding us,” Maeve said again. "They want us emotional so that we can’t think about our next move," Maeve said quietly. "They want us to react without thinking."

Peak looked at her. "Because emotional people make mistakes."

She gave a grim nod. "I've made enough of those."

"No." Peak's voice came out sharper than he intended, and Maeve looked at him. "You've made one mistake."

"What was that?" she asked.

"You've spent eighteen months believing everything is your fault." Silence settled between them. Even Warden stayed quiet. Peak walked over to the dresser and picked up the tiny evidence bag Captain had left behind. The coded strip inside caught the beam of his flashlight. "Tide Before Dawn."

Maeve joined him. "Wren wrote that."

"I think so too,” Peak agreed.

Warden folded his arms over his chest. “How is that gonna lead us to your sister?” he asked.

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Peak grumbled. He turned the strip over in his hand. “Wait.”

"What is it?" Maeve asked.

"I've been looking at this wrong."

Maeve frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I assumed the message was for us."

"It is,” she insisted.

"Maybe." He held it closer to the light. "But what if the message wasn't meant to tell us where to go?"