by Liz Shoaf
He used two vanities as cover, but had to take the last few feet in the open. As he bent over and headed down the short hallway where he’d seen Priscilla go, something buzzed past his left upper arm, bringing with it a short burst of pain. Ignoring it, Luc pressed forward just in time to see Priscilla fling open a door marked Private.
Luc reached the opened door seconds after her and hurled himself inside. His heart pounded as he straightened and spotted the back exit door just closing. Catching the door before it closed, he burst through it into a narrow alleyway behind the strip mall with a large stand of trees opposite.
A quick look to the left showed nothing, but to the right, Priscilla had nearly reached the end of the alleyway. The sound of gunfire faded as sirens indicated first responders had reached the shopping center. Behind the strip mall, the stillness belied the chaos that had erupted on the other side of the buildings. Luc shook off the throbbing of his left arm and ran after her, catching up as she veered through the trees on a dirt path he hadn’t seen from the alleyway. Just inside the woods, she paused near a junction where the dirt trail connected with a wider paved one, panting with her hand on her side.
“Are you okay?” He struggled to control his own breathing, which came out in gasps.
She nodded. “Just winded.”
“Thank God.” Luc couldn’t quite process what had happened. “Someone was shooting into the salon.” He gently shook his head to dislodge more pieces of glass. Why would someone fire a gun into a hair salon on a slow Monday afternoon?
Priscilla pulled out her cell phone and punched in a number. “Shots fired. At the salon. Person we discussed earlier with me. We’re on the trail behind the shopping center.”
Luc almost didn’t catch her wording. A person she’d discussed earlier with who? He would have to figure out what she meant later, when he wasn’t winded from running from an active shooter. His left arm pulsated with pain as the adrenaline started to ebb.
For now, he kept his attention on Priscilla. Her breath hitched as she held the phone to her ear with a hand that shook.
Then a couple with two puppies straining at their leashes rounded the corner. Luc immediately moved to shield Priscilla from the strangers.
One of the puppies stopped to sniff Luc’s shoe. The man laughed as he tugged on the leash. “Sorry, he’s the overly friendly one.”
From the couple’s calm demeanor, they must not have heard the shots as they approached the shopping center from the rear path. Luc wasn’t about to enlighten them and murmured, “That’s okay,” as the man attempted to move the dog away from Luc.
The woman gasped as the puppy’s nose came up from the ground red. “You’re bleeding!”
Luc glanced at his upper arm. Blood he hadn’t noticed until now dripped down his sleeve and splashed onto the ground by his foot. He clamped his right hand over the wound. Sudden light-headedness washed over him, and he concentrated on breathing evenly to avoid passing out.
“Honey, call 911. That’s an awful lot of blood,” the woman said to her companion, who immediately whipped out his phone and punched in the numbers.
Luc started to agree, but one look at Priscilla’s face told him that she was not going to wait for an ambulance. She had already started to edge away to the right from the couple on the path, her voice low as she continued her conversation on the phone.
Although his arm ached and probably needed medical attention, Luc didn’t want to let her out of his sight again. Why hadn’t Priscilla panicked when the bullets started flying?
Now he had more questions that needed answers.
Copyright © 2019 by Sarah Hamaker
ISBN-13: 9781488040795
Holiday Mountain Conspiracy
Copyright © 2019 by Liz Phelps
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