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“This is the presidential dining room,” I said when we had scrambled onto the rim of its floor.
“Follow the sounds of gunfire!” Strepp ordered and rushed ahead of us down the hall. In the foyer the massive double doors were open. I saw a lot of our army—they’d been assigned to take out or immobilize all military and law enforcement. The streets were a chaos of shots and shouting.
But we ran after Strepp as she raced down the wide, flagstone hallway.
“His study is on the third floor!” I shouted, glad I could contribute this info.
Strepp ran up the wide staircase. She looked back at me and I pointed to the doors at the end of the hall. She sped there, tried the doorknob, then shot the lock off.
Inside his study, a group of angry, flustered men were trying to get into the President’s gun safe. Cassie, Nate, Tim, and I spread out in a circle, our guns trained on the men.
“Where is he?” Strepp yelled.
I saw the surprise on Cassie’s face as she saw Provost Allen braced for battle, holding a fireplace poker.
“Provost Allen!” she blurted, but he’d just seen Nate.
“Son!” he said and waved his hand at us. “What are you doing?”
Nate shook his head and kept his gun trained on the group. “What you should have done long ago.”
The Provost’s face turned to ice and he raised the poker.
“Where is he?” Strepp screamed, sounding like a banshee.
None of the men answered her.
“You’ll be punished, you and your unpatriotic pals!” one man shouted.
“Who are you to question the natural order?” another man yelled.
“You’ll be exiled to a desert, and I’ll laugh!” cried one of the female ministers.
“Boring!” I yelled and shot a volley of bullets at their feet, making them shut up and leap around. “Now. Where. The. Hell. Is that asshole?”
Tim had to shoot very close to their feet before someone said, “He has a safe room! Off his bedroom!”
The wide marble staircase was teeming with people, bodies, and blood.
“This way!” I said and led them to the narrow servants’ staircase, where we went up one more flight.
I was wheezing, feeling sicker, and I lagged a bit behind the others. Tim looked back and held out his hand, but I ignored it and ran on, determined to make it on my own, not willing to hold them back, even as I fell farther behind.
On the next floor Strepp raced down the hall, as if she already knew where the President’s bedroom was located. Suddenly a hard arm shot out of nowhere and yanked me into a dark room. A second later I felt the sharp, stinging blade of a cold knife pressed to my throat.
“You just won’t stay dead, will you?” Kirt hissed in my ear.
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“KIRT, YOU ARE A SACK of shit,” I got out between clenched teeth, and he pressed the knife into my skin. A moment later I felt the warm trickle of blood on my neck.
“And you are a goddamn bitch who’s going to get what’s coming to you!” he said, pulling me backward.
Then the room flooded with light, and my sister stood at the door.
“Becca, you’re missing the uprising,” Cassie complained, raising her gun.
“She’s gonna miss the rest of her life!” Kirt said, and swung me in front of him.
