A glance at the floor, the puddle of water beneath our feet, and the open and empty crate.
"No." I cry out as Paul pulls me away. There's only one reason that crate is here. "No!"
A shot rings out, and Paul lurches. His eyes open wide, and he glances down. Crimson spreads across his belly.
My scream rattles the rafters, and I catch him as he collapses into my arms.
A voice speaks from the darkness. "Miss Faulks, I suggest you run."
No way in hell will I leave Paul after he saved me.
Clutching him tight against my side, I support most of his weight. Together, we move to the opposite side of the cistern, away from what looks to be the only entrance, but also out of the line of the gun sight.
"What now?"
Paul grits his teeth against the pain but then takes a deep breath. Agony twists his features. With a shaky hand, he points to a metal set of stairs. "That door. If it's unlocked, we exit there."
A small service door sits at the top of the stairs. I don't know how to get Paul up the steps, and his wound needs tending.
He pulls out his leather belt, grimacing with each movement, and then yanks the wet shirt over his head.
"Did the bullet go all the way through?" He turns, and I examine his back.
Sure enough, an exit wound gapes and blood spreads outward.
"Yes."
"Good." He wads his shirt and wraps it around his side. Then he fumbles with the belt.
I understand his intent and secure the belt in place.
"Tighter." He grunts. "It needs to be tighter."
Complying with his direction, I give another glance up the metal stairs.
"How am I?—"
"I can make it, but I need you to be brave. I need you to head up there and open that door. I'll be right behind you."
One glance at that landing confirms my fears.
Whoever is shooting at us will have a clean shot. I have to open the door and hold it while Paul struggles up the stairs, all the while praying the man with the gun has poor aim.
I don't think that will be the case. My value alive is easily a thousand times higher than dead. I won't be the target. Paul has come to the same conclusion. The door is metal. All I have to do is shut it before another shot hits something more vital than Paul's side.
"You ready?"
No. I will never be ready for this, but staying put isn't an option.
"As I'll ever be. You promise to be right behind me?"
"I'm only going to wait a moment. The cistern gives us cover only until the last few steps. I need to make sure you can open that door."
"Okay."
A squeeze to his hand and a kiss on his cheek. I take a fortifying breath. Cold weighs my entire body, but some circulation returns to my arms and legs. I can make it up a few stairs.
And I do.
