Chapter 9 - The Wrong Enemy

"Who wrote that?" Ethan asked.

"Ruth," Nina said through the speaker. "She saved it as a draft. Her phone probably never had service afterward."

Claire read the words again. Pike had ordered the exits chained, but somebody else had lit the match.

"The fire report said faulty wiring," she said.

"It also said the exits were open," Lena replied. "Don't give it too much respect."

Headlights swept across the windows of the freight annex. A black SUV rolled into the lot, followed by a second.

"Down," Ethan hissed.

Glass burst above them. Everyone dropped behind the lockers as shots snapped through the room. Lena kicked open a maintenance hatch and shoved the silver phone into Claire's hand.

"Take this. I'll get the car."

"You're not leaving us," Claire said.

"I'm giving us a way out."

She disappeared into the passage. Ethan pulled Claire after him. They ran through a tunnel lined with old steam pipes, then up a stairwell to the street. The first SUV was waiting at the exit.

Ethan grabbed Claire by the shoulders and pushed her behind a concrete pillar as the vehicle lunged toward them. Its bumper struck the pillar hard enough to bend the grille.

"Get in!" Lena shouted.

Her sedan skidded sideways across the narrow street, the passenger door flying open. Claire scrambled inside. Ethan jumped into the back.

Lena floored the gas. The sedan shot into traffic, bounced over a curb, and swerved between two buses. Behind them the SUV hit its horn and forced past a delivery truck.

Claire's phone rang. Margaret.

"Tell your people to back off!" Claire yelled.

"I didn't send anyone to the freight station," Margaret said. Her voice sounded old, almost frightened. "Damon stopped taking my calls."

"Then stop protecting him."

"You think you know what happened at Riverbend? You don't."

"I heard him order the chains."

"Yes," Margaret said. "But I know who gave him the gasoline."

The line clicked dead.

As Lena raced toward the bridge, an image appeared on Claire's phone. Ellie sat upright in the same concrete room, breathing in short, frightened bursts. Beside her lay an empty inhaler.

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SHE DOESN'T MAKE IT TO ONE.