The man jerks back like someone yanked him by the collar. His gun clatters, disappears. For a heartbeat, the sedan wobbles, the man half-falls against the door, fingers clawing at the frame.
“Got one,” I say.
“Not all,” Nikolai snaps.
He’s right. The car doesn’t back off. It surges closer, another shape moving into the driver’s seat, shadow replacing shadow. There’s someone else in there ready to take over.
We hit the on-ramp to the main highway, merging into heavier traffic. Everything speeds up—more cars, more noise, more places to die. Nikolai throws us across lanes, threading through gaps with inches to spare. Horns erupt around us. Someone leans on the brakes behind. A truck bellows its complaint.
My shoulder slams into the door as we jolt. I keep my gun trained on the shrinking line of windshield behind us, watching for another muzzle flash.
“Head down,” I bark again without looking back, feeling Bella flinch and tighten her hold on Lily.
The sedan fights to follow, weaving between cars, clipping a mirror, forcing a compact into the shoulder. They’re committed. They don’t care who they take out with us.
“Off-ramp in two miles,” Nikolai mutters, eyes flicking between road and mirrors. “If we make it.”
“You’ll make it,” I say. “Left side, when it splits.”
The sedan pulls up again, now to our rear left, trying to get an angle. I see the passenger window grind down, another arm, another gun. He leans out, braced on the door.
I wait for him to aim. One second. Two. The moment his wrist stabilizes, I fire three times in quick succession.
Glass blows out. His gun arm snaps back. The car jerks, swaying hard. For a heartbeat it looks like they might recover, then the front tire kisses the concrete divider at the wrong angle.
The impact is ugly and fast. Metal screams. Their car ricochets off the barrier, fishtails across two lanes, slices in front of a delivery truck that has nowhere to go. The truck slams into theirrear quarter, shoving them sideways. The sedan spins—once, twice—and then slams nose-first into the guardrail.
I don’t watch what happens after that. I don’t need to. The sound tells me enough.
Nikolai yanks us into the far lane, using the chaos behind as cover. Sirens will be called. Phones are already in hands. But we’re just one more car in a suddenly panicked stream.
Lily is sobbing into Bella’s shirt. Bella’s eyes are wide, skin paper-white, one hand fisted in Lily’s curls, the other braced on the seat.
“It’s over,” I say, more for them than for myself. “They’re done.”
“Over?” Bella chokes. “Someone just—someone?—”
“I know.” My voice comes out rougher than I mean it to. “I know.”
My hand is still wrapped around the gun. I force my fingers to unclench, slide it back into the hidden pocket in the door. My body is humming with adrenaline. My ears ring. There’s glass in my hair and my arm stings from where a shard kissed skin.
“Keep your heads down another minute,” Nikolai calls back. “Then act normal. We’re just commuters on a shitty morning.”
I look at Bella. Her mouth is pressed tight, like she’s holding everything in by force. Lily hiccups against her chest.
We get off the highway as soon as it’s safe. Nikolai takes an exit that looks like nothing—a scrubby strip of road under an old overpass, graffiti on the pillars, no cameras in sight. We’ve used places like this before. Easy to miss. Easier to leave.
Under the bridge, a second car is already waiting—dark gray sedan, mid-range, clean but not flashy. Rental plates. The kind of car no one remembers seeing.
“How…?” Bella starts.
“I called it in when we switched highways,” I say. “One of my people dropped it here and left.”
The first car rolls to a stop beside it. There’s no one around now; whoever delivered the replacement is gone, probably already picked up on the far side of town. The new car sits unlocked, keys in the cup holder, tank full. Disposable but solid.
“Out,” he says quietly.
I get out first, scan the road, the bridge, the gaps in the concrete. No one lingering. Just a guy on a bike in the distance and a dog tied to a railing, bored out of its mind.
