any worse.
Every second Elizabeth looked at him was a second she wasn’t watching for the Mudir. Quickly, she flashed the cop her badge. Maybe it was the glare of the morning sun against the windshield. He kept waving at her. Now he was coming over to her window.
Again, she flashed her badge. Again, it was as if he couldn’t see it. He was motioning for her to roll down her window, but she couldn’t risk it—not if he wanted to look more closely at the badge. If the Mudir caught a glimpse of that, it was game over.
Elizabeth tugged even tighter on the brim of her cap, shaking her head no while holding her badge in her lap, hoping that he would finally see it. Maybe he did. But by then it was too late.
She saw him in the rearview mirror. The Mudir was coming toward the car, gun drawn. A moment’s distraction. That’s all it took for him to have the upper hand. The scene in her mind immediately changed. He would kill the cop and then kill her. She could see it so clearly.
Elizabeth reached for the door, pushing it open as hard as she could to knock the cop out of the line of fire. No sooner had he fallen backward to the pavement than the Mudir’s first shot struck the sideview mirror, exactly where he’d been standing.
“Stay down!” Elizabeth yelled, as she peeled out of the driver’s seat expecting to see the Mudir still coming right for them.
Only he wasn’t. He wasn’t anywhere. At least nowhere she could see.
Crouching as low as she could, she began edging her way along the side of the car. Just as she reached the gas tank, she heard the voice behind her.
“Drop it!”
It was the cop. He’d drawn his gun, demanding Elizabeth drop hers. She had no choice. She had to turn back to him, and that’s all it took. Another moment’s distraction. The arm came out from behind the trunk, grabbing her around the neck.
The Mudir now had his gun to her head.
CHAPTER 115
“LIZZIE!” I YELLED.
But she was gone. She’d hung up on me. Damn it.
I had the phone wedged between my shoulder and ear as I kneeled on the sidewalk next to Eli, my hands frantically ripping his shirt to get a clear look at where the bullet had entered—and hopefully exited—above his hip.
No such luck. Sliding my hand around to his back, I couldn’t feel a hole. He would need surgery. If he didn’t bleed out first.
“The girl,” he said, his voice beginning to falter. “She’s in danger.”
“Yes.”
“Go help her.”
“Not yet,” I said.
I could hear the sirens only blocks away, the ambulances racing to the scene. All around us people were still running, desperate to get as far away from the station as possible. Could they even hear me?
It was a safe bet I would’ve gone my entire life without asking this question, let alone to a bunch of strangers. “Does anyone have a tampon?” I yelled.
I kept yelling it until finally a young woman in a jean jacket stopped. I could see her eyes dart back and forth between Eli and me before landing on the blood seeping between my fingers as I continued applying pressure against the wound.
With a quick nod, she dug into her purse and handed me a sealed tampon.
“What else can I do?” she asked.
“An ambulance,” I said. “First one you see.”
She took off as I tore open the wrapper and lodged the tampon into the bullet hole as tightly as I could. Eli winced from the pain but still managed a slight smile. “Smart,” he said. “Now go help the girl.”
“Not yet,” I said.
Elizabeth was being so stubborn, so reckless. If the Mudir didn’t kill her, I was going to.
“There!” I heard across the street. “They’re over there!”
The young woman in the jean jacket was screaming and pointing with a couple of EMTs in tow. As soon as they saw Eli, they began to sprint.
I wanted to get the woman’s name, get her number, and get the mayor to give her a key to the city and a ticker-tape parade. But all I had time for as the EMTs swooped in to treat Eli was a quick hug and a thanks. Superheroes don’t always wear capes. Sometimes they wear a jean jacket.
I took off down the sidewalk, running as fast as I could to find Elizabeth. The closer I got, the more I could feel it. Not my legs aching. Not