Boris charged after him, but Lourds was in shape from playing regular soccer and left his friend behind. “Don’t go out there!”
Lourds focused on Anna. She stood frozen in disbelief, staring down at a young ANP officer lying dead at her feet. Moving at full speed, Lourds was grimly aware of a line of bullets chopping across the snow-covered ground toward Anna. He lunged, throwing himself forward and spreading his arms. Trying to yank her back into the cave would only have gotten them both killed.
When he slammed into Anna, her breath whooshed out of her. Petite and little more than half his weight, she left her feet like a wide receiver hit by a linebacker. Pain shot through Lourds as they flew through the air. Her elbow struck him in the face and made his eyes water. Then they landed hard, with him on top.
She lay under him, gasping for air, and he tried to keep from smashing her flat. Desperate, Lourds looked around for cover.
A young ANP officer had taken cover at a nearby generator. The man fired a volley at their opponents, then sprinted over to aid Lourds. Before he could reach Lourds, a bullet plowed into him and took his legs out from under him. The officer spun sideways as blood poured from a wound high on his hip.
Get up! Get up! Lourds pushed himself up but stayed low. Anna still lay stunned, flailing weakly. He caught her hand and dragged her across the ground. The packed snow reduced friction and allowed him to easily pull her. Adrenaline-spiked fear lent him the strength to run with her in tow.
Just as he reached the generator, it felt like a baseball bat slammed into his back. He lost his footing and went sideways, knowing at once that he’d been shot. He and Anna had skidded behind the generator, temporarily out of the line of fire. He lay on his side and waited for the pain to kick in. Panicked, he ran a hand across his side and felt for the wound.
Anna sat up and huddled against the generator. She had to shout to be heard over the noise. “What’s wrong?”
“I’ve been shot.” Lourds kept trying to reach behind him. He wanted to find the wound, and he didn’t want to at the same time. He kept expecting to feel the warmth of blood, but there was nothing there.
“Where?”
“My back.”
“Can you move?”
“Yes.”
“Then get over here.” Anna reached for him, caught his foot, and dragged him closer to the generator.
He wanted to fight her off and tell her that moving him could cause paralysis, depending on the severity of the wound. That’s why you can’t feel anything. You’re paralyzed. Except that he could still feel and move his feet. He came to a stop pressed up against Anna.
Bullets created craters where Lourds had been lying.
“Thank you.”
Anna nodded and seemed on the verge of screaming. She leaned over him and inspected his back. “You weren’t shot. Your backpack was. The bullet passed through and missed you. All you felt was some of the impact.”
“No!“ Lourds shoved himself into a sitting position and shrugged the backpack off. All he could think about were the scrolls. Before he could reach them, Anna slapped his shoulder to get his attention.
She pointed at the ANP officer lying on the ground a short distance away. The man was wounded, evidently dazed, and lay on his back, staring up at the sky. For a moment, Lourds thought he was dead. Then he saw the young man blink.
“We have to help him.” Anna rose to her feet and ran over to the wounded man.
Thinking the young woman was out of her mind, Lourds was nevertheless unable to remain on the sidelines either. Leaving his backpack behind, he dashed over to the victim. He and Anna grabbed the man’s arms and dragged him back to cover behind the generator. Bullets chased them till they got there, then whined off the generator or cored into the metal housing.
“Thomas!” Boris remained within the cave, safe for the moment.
Only a few feet away from the Russian professor, a dark-haired man in a green Russia Today coat took refuge against the mountain in a sheltering indentation. He looked around desperately, and for a brief moment, he focused on Lourds.
There was something predatory in the man’s gaze. Lourds felt it slash into him, and the innate survival instinct hardwired from Neolithic man on came boiling to the forefront.