Matthew’s face screwed itself up into the most dumbfounded look that Yvonne had ever seen. “You can’t be... How old are you? Sixteen?”
“Seventeen,” Benny said, as indignant as any young man whose age has ever been underestimated.
“That means you were... What thirteen or fourteen when you became my broker?”
Benny looked away and nodded.
Candace jumped to her son’s defense. “He was thirteen. I’d lost my job because of my illness and... He found a way to make some money for us. You were his first freelancer.” Her nose wrinkled in a smile. “We had to start somewhere. Mr. Cole, you had a reputation among the Brokers Alliance, and no one else would take you.”
Yvonne snorted. She covered her mouth when everyone looked at her. “Sorry, that just, well, that sounds like Matthew.” She patted him affectionately on the shoulder. “He can be hard to work with.” She turned to Candace. “I’m guessing you’re the business partner we’ve heard Benny reference.”
Candace nodded. “My son is smarter than I am, but he doesn’t have as many years handling surly men.” She shrugged her shoulder apologetically at Matthew.
The moment of levity seemed to give Benny a second wind of courage. “I’m good at what I do,” he said. “Now, anyway.”
Matthew let out a long slow sigh. “You are. And I’m thankful that you took me on. I guess I didn’t realize I was that much of a liability.” He extended a hand. “I’m glad to meet you, Benny.”
He turned red as he shook Matthew’s hand. “You too.”
“What about this death threat?” Matthew said. “What’s going on?”
Candace picked a handwritten note up from the table. “This was on our front door this morning.” Yvonne craned her head to get a look at it.
Drop the Sparrow crew or your business partner dies.
“Not very subtle,” Matthew said. “And they deliberately tipped their hand as to how much they know about you.”
Benny nodded. “I’ve only ever referred to mom as my business partner to you guys. Which means my network traffic is being intercepted? I’ve got more control over the encryption method if I bypass the comms and send it straight over the network. Hence the short message you got. No way they’ll be able to crack that anytime soon.”
“Do you have any ideas who this could be?” Yvonne asked.
“Not a clue,” Benny said with a shrug. “Given Matthew’s newfound celebrity status, it could be anyone.”
“You shouldn’t have called me here,” Matthew said. “You’re putting yourself and your mother in even more danger. You should have complied with their demand.”
Benny looked at his mother. Candace smiled and gestured around the apartment. “Mr. Cole, we can’t afford to drop you. And you can’t afford for us to drop you either. Not right now. We thought maybe you could take us somewhere safer. Help us disappear and Benny can keep supplying you with jobs.”
Matthew looked crestfallen. “You shouldn’t have to leave your life because of me. I’m sorry.”
Benny raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms. “We’re not exactly giving up much.”
Yvonne put a hand on Matthew’s arm. “Antioch could handle a couple more residents.” She saw the look of relief in Candace’s eyes. That was what she had been hoping for.
“It’s not that simple,” Matthew said. “I know you didn’t have a safe way of contacting me, but they almost certainly have this building under observation. We can’t just walk out of here with you and your luggage in tow.”
That broke Benny’s confidence, and he looked back at his feet. His shaggy hair fell over his eyes. “Yeah. Well, you’re here now, and I know you won’t leave us out cold. You always make things work in the end.”
Matthew took off his hat and set it on the table. “Give me a minute to think.” He paced the length of the short room like one of Warlord Dan’s caged animals.
“Abigail should be back soon,” Yvonne suggested. “We can wait on her for backup.”
“But what happens when we leave?” Matthew asked. “Do they follow us back to the Sparrow? Do they open fire? There are too many unknowns.”
“Disguises?” Benny suggested.
Matthew shook his head. “Disguises only work well when someone doesn’t know they’re looking specifically for you. We were probably seen on the way in.” He stepped over to the window and cautiously pulled the curtain back to peek out. “If we only knew where they were and how many, we could take the fight to them.” He let go of the heavy fabric and turned his back to the window. “Maybe if we—”
The window shattered and Matthew fell forward with a cry of pain as the sharp crack of gunfire rang out. “Get away from the window!” he roared through gritted teeth as he pulled himself along the floor. “Around the corner.” He slumped down and coughed.
“Benny, help me. Now,” Yvonne said. An eerie calm settled over her. Together they each took Matthew by an arm as they half dragged him to safety and away from the cursed window. Her eyes roved quickly over Matthew. Entry wound behind his right shoulder. Exit wound lower on chest based on the expanding bloodstain. Punctured lung.
“Lay him down gently,” she commanded. “On his left side.” The dim hall was cramped with the four of them huddled together. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Candace breathing erratically. She didn’t need another patient right now. “Candace, I need clean cloth,” Yvonne said. “Anything cotton will do. And I’ll need more after that, so get ready to follow orders.” The woman raised her eyes to meet Yvonne’s and nodded then crawled toward the rooms in the back.
“My gun,” Matthew wheezed. “They might push our position.”
“Stop talking,” Yvonne ordered. “Benny help me get his poncho off.”
The teen pulled a small knife out of his pocket. “Will this help?”
“Perfect.” She cut through the fabric and tugged it away before working on his shirt.
“Take my gun,” Matthew said again. “Just in case.”
Yvonne’s breath hitched. She reached for the holster and took the revolver. “Do you know how to use this thing?” she asked Benny.
He shrugged. “I’ve been to a range once or twice.”
“I’ve trained you, Yvonne,” Matthew whispered.
“Stop. Talking.” Yvonne said as she finished cutting the front of his shirt open to reveal the exit wound. She breathed a sigh of relief at its relatively small size. “I’m a doctor, not a killer. Don’t ask me to shoot someone, even if they deserve it.” The sentence nearly made her sick to her stomach the moment she said it. She shook her head. “Benny. Take the gun. Watch the door.”
“What about the window?”
She pointed at the floor. “See that mark? The bullet went straight through him and hit the floor right there. They’re higher than us. Keep to the wall and they won’t have the angle.”
“I’m sorry, Matthew,” he said pitifully. But he obeyed. Candace returned with handfuls of clean t-shirts. Yvonne took one in each hand and, squatting over Matthew, applied as much pressure as she could muster to both the entrance and exit wound. “This will slow the bleeding, but we’ll have to stop it.”
Candace bit her lip. “What do I do?”
“It’s probably a fool’s hope to think you have chest seals in your first aid supplies?”
“I don’t even know what that is.”
“Then I need sterile plastic and tape. The strongest you have.”
“Wh... What about a plastic bag?”
“What kind?”
“The sealable kind for sandwiches. And I keep engine tape around for fixing things.”
“Those will suffice. Hurry. You should be able to enter the kitchen if you keep to the wall.” As Candace scurried away, Yvonne leaned down to check on Matthew. The shirts were soaking through, but not at an alarming rate. “Looks like it’s your lucky day,” she said. “Whoever decided to shoot you must have thought you wear body armor on the job. The shell remained intact and punch
ed clean through you. Most likely armor piercing. If that had been a hollow point...” She shuddered.
Matthew groaned but didn’t say anything. At least she’d got that into his stubborn head. “You know,” she said quietly. “I thought this was going to happen a lot sooner when I first came aboard. But I do wish you hadn’t broken your streak.” It was a silly and crass thing to say, but it helped keep the emotions at bay. That was one thing she couldn’t afford right now. She’d kept her feelings in check the last time too. Maybe that meant something was wrong with her. At least this time, she wouldn’t be forced to watch as someone she cared about died.
Candace returned, supplies in hand. “Perfect,” Yvonne said. “Do you have someplace I can wash my hands?” Candace pointed at a door. “I need you to apply pressure with fresh shirts like I am until I get back. Can you do that? Don’t touch the wound.” Candace took her place. Yvonne assessed her. “More pressure. As hard as you can.” She ran into the restroom and, flipping on the light, soaped her hands, doing her absolute best to sterilize them.
By the time she returned, Candace’s hands were shaking. “Just a little longer,” Yvonne said. “I’m going to improvise an occlusive dressing.”
“What’s that?” Benny asked from across the room.
“Matthew has a punctured lung. It’s creating new air pathways. I need to seal the wounds to keep air from leaking in or out and stop the bleeding. The plastic will form the seal to make it airtight, and the tape will keep it in place and apply pressure. Candace, on three I need you to move your hand away from his chest. Exit wounds are always more serious, so we need to deal with it first. Matthew, are you still with me? I need you to breathe out. Okay. One, two, three!”
Her hands moved fast, almost without thought as she sealed the wound. She would have preferred to work with medical-grade supplies, but this would do the trick until she could properly dress it. She inspected her handiwork. “Okay, we need to repeat the process with the entry wound. Matthew, breathe out again for me.”
Soon it was over. Candace disposed of the bloodied rags, and Yvonne leaned over to check Matthew’s pulse and breathing. Both were acceptable considering circumstances. “How are you feeling?” she asked gently.
“It all hurts,” he whispered. “I’m cold too.”
“We’ll find you a blanket.” Candace nodded and went to one of the bedrooms.
Matthew’s comm buzzed and Yvonne nearly wept for joy as she answered it. “Abigail, get my surgical kit. We need you now!”
ABIGAIL RAN THROUGH the Sparrow at a blind panic. She knew Yvonne’s surgical kit was in one of the upper cabinets in the common room, she just didn’t know which. She started opening them at random. In her haste, she crushed one of the latches between her fingers, effectively sealing it shut. She stared at it for the space of three heartbeats before tearing the door off its hinges and tossing it aside. As luck would have it, it was the right cabinet. At least she would have an excuse when this was over.
If Matthew didn’t die.
The thought twisted her insides in ways she couldn’t explain. She grabbed the kit and rushed for the hold. A few minutes later, her oversized bike was thundering away from the farm toward Flagstaff. The ride gave her time to think, which was the last thing she needed right now. Dark thoughts threatened to crush her, fears over the future, and all the ways this could go so terribly wrong. It was over if Matthew died. He was the heart and life of the crew and if something happened to him... Funny how you could go into danger so often and it never felt real until you lost and someone got hurt. Then it was all you could think about.
After an eternity of driving, she stopped her bike two blocks from her destination. She grabbed her comm. “Yvonne, I’m here. Got an update for me?”
“We’re okay. Whoever shot Matthew seems content to wait. Or else they think he’s a dead man trapped in here.”
“Is he?” Abigail asked carefully.
“He will need more medical care than I can provide in an apartment, yes, but he’s no longer in immediate danger. Abigail, they may open fire.”
“That’s the least of my concerns right now,” she said, tucking the kit under her arm.
“Matthew was hit with an armor-piercing bullet.”
“Meant for fiber armor and low-grade plates most likely,” she corrected, “not vehicle grade steel alloy. I’ll be there soon.” Still, she pulled her shield off her back and deployed it. It wouldn’t hurt to be careful. She could cover two blocks in a manner of seconds when she wasn’t being slowed down by anyone else. Get in. Get Yvonne the supplies she needed. Figure out how to get all of them out of there.
She shifted her shield to her left hand, the side fire would most likely come from, and took off at a sprint down the sidewalk. Her passing rattled nearby windows, and pedestrians scattered out of her path. She reached the run-down apartment building and slowed up to look around. There were too many nearby buildings where a sniper could be hiding, waiting for them to try and evacuate. This was going to be a problem. As she turned to enter the apartment, a shot rang out, and a bullet struck the armor in the middle of her back. She spun, shield raised, but the marksman decided against wasting any more ammo and revealing their location. Cautiously, she backed into the entrance and shut the door behind her.
Abigail felt the crumbling stairs groan beneath her suit’s weight and wondered just how old the building was. Walking down the hall, she knocked on the appropriate door. “Special delivery.”
BENNY TOOK A BIG STEP back as he let Abigail Sharon into the room. He knew what to expect, but she was terrifyingly huge in person. She shut the door behind her and looked down at him.
“Benny,” she said.
He swallowed. “Abigail,” he replied as bravely as he could.
She pushed past him. “I’ll make fun of you for hiding your age after this is over. You’re not off the hook.”
“Down here, Abigail,” Yvonne said. “Watch the window.”
“I can solve that problem,” she said and blocked the entire window with her shield. There was a sharp metallic ping and crack of a gunshot. Benny flinched, squeezing an eye shut. He’d already seen one person shot today and had no desire to see another. For her part, Abigail didn’t bat an eyelash. “See? It works like a charm. Now, let’s get you guys out of that cramped hall.”
Feeling ignored, Benny went back to watching the door. The gun felt like a lead weight in his hand. Honestly, why did he still have it now that Abigail was here? She could stand guard and actually do some good. Instead, she was fussing over Matthew like... Well, he wasn’t sure exactly, but she wasn’t making any attempt at masking her concern as Yvonne went to work.
For his part, the guilt was getting unbearable. It was his fault Matthew had been shot. He mentally kicked himself. Now everyone was in danger. He listened to the quiet voices of the women as they talked in hushed voices before working up the nerve to interrupt. “So... How is he doing?”
Yvonne answered without looking up. “I’m suturing the wounds closed. Then I’ll have to make an incision and insert a drain to remove fluid and air from the chest cavity.”
“How long is that going to take?”
“Time enough for someone else to figure out how to get us out of here,” she answered shortly.
Abigail brushed Matthew’s hair back. “Hang in there,” she said and stood to her feet. “All exits will be watched. I guess we could call in the police, but that’s putting more people in danger, and there are too many private buildings where those shots could have come from for them to check.”
“Can you bring the Sparrow?” Benny asked. “We’ve got roof access.”
Abigail shook her head. “One pilot is down and the other is trapped here. Unless someone you know has an armored vehicle we can back up to the building, we’ll be leaving on foot.”
The room dropped into an oppressive silence at that thought. Benny went back to watching the door and wracked his brain. Did he have any other contacts that cou
ld be here quickly with transport? After several minutes of rejecting idea after idea, he snapped his fingers as the answer came to him. “I’ve got it. The old tunnel we used to play in.”
His mom narrowed her eyes. “You told me you never went down there.”
“I was like ten. I lied. A lot.”
“Tell me about this tunnel,” Abigail demanded.
“A group of us found it years ago while playing in the halls. Beneath the staircase, there was an old boarded-off room with a ladder leading down to a tunnel network. We tore through the boards.”
“This is promising,” she said. “What kind of tunnels are we talking about? Maintenance? Sewer?”
Mom shook her head. “A century ago, Flagstaff started a tunnel system to bury the trains underground.”
“A subway system,” Abigail said. “This is perfect. Why was it abandoned?”
“I think Moses was doing the digging, so when he disappeared, the project just stopped. The kids pried open the room and found something no one had seen in decades. They’d been playing down there for a week before we found out and closed it off again, permanently this time.”
“Abigail can remedy that,” Benny said.
“Sounds like our best shot,” Abigail said. “Can we move Matthew safely?”
Yvonne set aside a tool she’d been working with. “It’s less than ideal, but so is waiting here for them to come finish us off. You’ll have to carry him. Gently. He’ll be out for a little longer.” She placed a mask over his face and clipped a portable compressor to his belt. It looked like his mom wasn’t the only one on oxygen now. Yvonne packed up her surgical kit, and his mom shouldered the backpack they’d put together, little more than a couple changes of clothes and the drives from his computer. They were traveling light.
Abigail came over to Benny and laid a heavy armored hand on his shoulder. It felt like a load of bricks. “Take me to the tunnel entrance. We’ll make sure the path is clear, and then I’ll come back for Matthew and the others.” They moved Matthew out of view from the window, and she retrieved her shield. She turned to Yvonne. “Be ready.”
After Moses: Wormwood Page 19
