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Or leave Gabriel to die.
It’s a snap decision.
“Dammit,” I hiss, abandoning the vault door to throw myself into the fray.
Chapter 30
Gabriel
“Foxtrot, duck!”
My body reacts to the sound of her voice like a trained soldier obeying his drill sergeant. I duck out of the way just as Raquel comes flying in, smacking one of the guards right in the jaw before putting his gun-wielding arm in a stress hold. She puts so much force and spin into the move that I’m pretty sure I hear his elbow crack the wrong way.
He screams bloody murder.
Attagirl.
There’s no time to feel proud. I use his pain and rip the gun out of his hand, quickly spinning around to hit the closest guard in the gut. He keels over, winded and wheezing. Raquel’s quick to come in, kneeing him in the side of the head.
That’s two down, two more to go.
The guard on my far left tries to go for his radio to call for backup. We can’t let that happen. All it takes is a quick glance at one another and we spring into action. Raquel lunges for his legs, forcing his knees to buckle. He teeters, off balance. I rush him, my knuckles cracking against his jaw. He falls over, out cold.
Only one left.
Unfortunately, the guy’s just out of my periphery. There’s so much going on, too many bodies to keep track of. It’s in this moment of brief confusion that he comes at me, a utility knife drawn. He plunges it into my back, just below my left shoulder blade. I growl, low and furious as he slices straight through skin and muscle. The son of a bitchtwiststhe blade, embedding it even deeper. The pain radiates outward, so overwhelming it leaves me blinded and unable to think.
“No!” Raquel screams, wailing on the man who’s almost twice her size.
I reach behind me to pull the knife out —I’m a doctor’s definition of a nightmare patient, I know— but I can’t fight if I’ve got it stuck in my back. I fling the damn thing with all my might, nailing the final guard right in the thigh. He screams, collapsing to the floor. He moves like he’s going to try and pull it out, but Raquel stomps on his ankle.
“Don’t fucking think about it,” she hisses. “He’s probably nicked your femoral artery. If you pull it out, you’ll bleed out in seconds. If you want to live, don’t fucking move.”
The guard’s wide-eyed and definitely spooked. He doesn’t move a muscle, staring at the handle of the knife like it’s a ticking time bomb. He’ll be fine —as long as he gets medical attention soon. Hopefully Raquel and I will be long gone by then.
I chase after her. The back of my shirt is sticky with blood. I’m in unspeakable pain, but I have to warn her. I’ve been counting this entire time. Our planned blackout is almost over. The lasers are going to come back on at any moment.
“Rocky, wait!”
“No, I have to—”
The lights flicker back on.
And so do the high-powered lasers.
It’s blinding and so much to deal with all at once. Raquel’s barely halfway across the room, moving too fast to stop. She gasps. Trips forward. Arms flailing. I reach for her hand, manage to grab her wrist to keep her from falling right on top of a beam. I strain against the awkward angle, her weight, and the fact that I’ve really only got one good arm now that my back’s sliced open.
I can feel the heat of a laser singing my clothes, my hair, myskin. Cooking flesh is not a pleasant smell. I don’t let go of Raquel, though. If I do, she’ll be sliced clean in two and I’ll go flying into the lasers behind me. Right now, we’re acting as each other’s counterbalances. If one of us falls, so does the other.
“Fuck!” she yelps.
“Hold on, Rocky. I’ve got you.”
“Just let go,” she hisses. “Save yourself.”
“I’m not letting you go.”
My muscles shake with the tension. Our palms are sweaty. I can feel her slipping.
