— whoever they were — came ready for business. A drone with a silenced machine gun.
Great. Just great. They were being hunted by a Borg.
She turned her head up and studied Luke’s face, trying to take her cues from him. But his face expressed nothing but extreme stress. White and sweaty and taut. It was horrible because this situation — she had no idea what to do with it. And she wanted to live through it.
Oh man, yes, she wanted to live through it. She wanted to live. The desire to live rose up in her with raging ferocity, surprising her. If you’d asked her before to list her characteristics, strong will for survival would have been dead last. Not even there, really.
But not now. She had so much to live for. The promise of a new love, a new life, even that new job with Felicity’s company. Moving to a new city. A new dream life, a life where she fit. Where there was a place for her. Where she was welcome. Someone was trying to take that away from her. Someone felt she was inconvenient. And while they were at it, they were more than willing to kill a good man in the process.
Rage simmered.
Luke grabbed her hands, holding them tightly. His hands were scarily cold. Under that pressure bandage, she knew, he was still bleeding, though she hoped with all her heart not as profusely as before.
Luke squeezed her hands so hard she was startled. “Listen to me,” he said urgently. “I just sent out the bat-signal. The closest ASI and Black Inc people are coming as fast as they can make it but it won’t be fast enough. I think that drone is going to make its way around the perimeter of the house. The sensors can’t pick it up so we don’t know its location. That puts us at a huge disadvantage. It will just keep —”
He threw himself over her as another strafing commenced. It went from the furthest wall to about ten feet from them. If it was strafing strategically, it was very possible that the next round would be their section of the house. Luke was sprawled over her. He’d take the bullet, she wouldn’t.
Again, the fusillade was eerily silent, the destruction it caused the only sound, fragments of wood, metal and textiles fogging the air. When it stopped, Luke lifted himself up and off her with a grunt. She felt wetness and checked her back. He’d bled through the improvised pressure bandage.
God.
Luke rolled over until they were both flat on the ground, face to face.
He clutched her shoulder with his good hand. “Listen.” Voice low and urgent. “Next time that drone comes our way we might not be so lucky.”
Yeah. Being shot in the shoulder was plenty lucky.
He shucked the foil blanket. “This is what we’re going to do. I’m going to run over there —” he pointed toward the bedrooms, “without the blanket. It’ll be programmed to target moving sources of heat. I’ll run fast and hit the ground in the corridor, covering myself up again. The drone will shoot but I should be ok. While I’m running, I want you to keep your blanket on and head for the door next to the kitchen. It’s the gun locker and it’s as protected as a safe room. Bullets won’t penetrate and you’ll be safe. There’s a keypad to open the door under the hunting print to the right. Use your knuckle covered by the foil blanket. That way you won’t leave fingerprints and they won’t be able to see the heat signature on the keys you’ve touched if they enter. The code is 84765. Can you remember that?”
If they penetrated the house in time for the keypad keys to keep a lingering heat from her fingers, she and Luke would be in terrible trouble. She would be, rather. Luke would be dead.
She could remember the numbers. Numbers were her friends. “Sure. 84765. But there’s no way I’m leaving you, and there’s no way you’re going to try to draw them away. That’s insane.”
He smiled, face waxy now, nostrils and lips dead white. His eyes were exhausted and sad. “It’s the only way honey. That drone is here to soften us up. They’re hoping the drone killed us, but no matter what, whoever is out there will be coming in soon to check on the damage. If I — if I die, you’ll be left alone to face them and they