Page 81 of I’m The Worst

Fuck.

I can’t slow down.

Not now.

“Wolff!” Her scream echoes down the hallway.

I force my legs to keep moving, even as they start to go numb beneath me. Every step is a fight to stay upright. My vision doubles, then triples, the concussion turning the corridor into a strobing blur of light and steel.

I hit the door beside her shoulder first.

It slams open into a massive warehouse—rows of stacked crates, rusted shipping containers, steel beams vanishing into shadow.

I pull AJ inside and slam the door shut behind us, jamming a thick metal bar through the locking brackets just as fists and bodies crash into the other side. The impact shakes the entire frame. Metal shrieks as the bar bends inward. Shouting in Russian breaks out from behind it, their fists pounding on the door.

“AJ! We need to find a way out!”

I grab her arm and yank her with me into the maze of crates and containers.

She’s breathing fast beside me, half-running, half-stumbling to keep up. “There are too many of them! Wolff, I can’t— I can’t breathe⁠—”

We rip tarps off crates as we run, searching for weapons, tools, anything.

Nothing.

I can’t see any doors or windows. Just towering rows of cargo containers stacked like steel tombs.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Fuck.

I find a crowbar wedged behind a crate and snatch it up just as a deafening crack splits the warehouse.

The door bar is giving.

“Shit!”

Sprinting back, I slam my body into the door, bracing it with my shoulder. The impact from the other side nearly folds me in half. The steel buckles against my spine.

I shove off before it crushes me flat.

“Wolff! Look!”

AJ is halfway down the warehouse, pointing into the far corner. A blue shipping container sits mounted on a transport truck.

A way out.

I stagger toward it and wrench open the driver’s door.

“AJ, get in!”

Another crack behind us.

The door won’t hold twenty seconds.

I rip down the overhead visor and find the keys jammed into the mirror compartment. AJ gets one foot into the cab, but then she freezes. Her whole face drains of color. She’s staring past me. At an orange container across the aisle.