A ground-shaking boom punched through her chest. Kasra gasped and instinctively took a step—whether to escape or be closer to him, she wasn’t sure. Maybe both. Her shoulder bumped his back … pack.
“Let’s go.” They snaked through the passages and out a side exit. Staying in the shadow of the building, they hurried across the length of the courtyard. Headed to a small door in the concrete wall.
Shots peppered the air, concrete spitting at her. She yelped and ducked, pressing her face to his pack and doing her best to stay in tandem with him. He swung around, movements strong and intentional. He engaged the enemy. “The door,” he ordered. “Unlatch it.”
Terrified to move and get shot, she hesitated.
“Now!”
At his anger and sharp tone, she surged forward. Thankfully, the safehouse’s lights helped her find the latch. She slid the crossbar up and over, felt a definitiveshunk.
Rage backed toward her, firing. “Out. Left. Hug the wall.”
Kasra complied, kept a hand on the wall, rushing forward, listening carefully. Heart racing so violently, she wasn’t sure she would hear him anyway. The wall ended and she faltered, wondering whether to go—
“On me. Hand.” He darted across a shadowy section of the road, their intrusion into the street earning a harsh rebuke from the fighters pursuing them.
Even as they gained more distance, her heart pounded more. Instinct wanted her to break away.
Trust him. Stay with him.
He was, after all, the only one with a weapon.
“Run!” he grunted.
The surprise command jumpstarted her heart. She burst forward, keeping him in her periphery as they zigzagged up and down the street. Across to a new one. Turned right, then left. Through a residential neighborhood. Down a market. Running. Running.
Legs aching, lungs burning, she stumbled.
Hands caught her. “Just a little farther.” He drew her on. Rage stalked forward, powerful and focused. Endless energy and strength.
Slowly, she began to recognize the buildings, the streets, the market … Sounds. “It’s not safe here.”
Huffing, he seemed to already know that and kept moving. Entire body taut with readiness. Always anticipating with his weapon. Never tiring.
She knew not how much longer they hurried through the streets, but her calves were cramping and felt leaden. Her arms like anchors. “I … I can’t.” She glanced back. Saw nothing, heard nothing. Stopped. “I need—” Sucking in a breath, she realized he was … gone. “Rage …?”
Fear trickled through her veins as darkness and smells closed in on her. “Rage.” Her voice echoed down the endless street. She rubbed her palms, turned. Searched the shadows. He’d left her …?
Crack! Pop!
She whipped to the right. Saw a man charging her. Face contorted. Weapon spitting balls of fire.
Abdullah.
Oh, merciful Allah …Kasra pitched herself around. Ran, though her legs felt like jelly. She sprinted, terror nipping at her heels. Her foot hit something. She pitched forward. Scored her knees and palms on the road. Though she shoved up, she heard more shots. Felt something burn her shoulder. She glanced back again.
Crack! Crack!
“Did you think we would not find you, whore?” Abdullah growled, bearing down on her. “You are dead!”
Crack-crack-crack! Crack!
Abdullah crumpled, blood smearing his kaftan.
The bullets had come from behind. Rage was there, clasping her arm. Hauling her up. “C’mon.”
Holding onto him as if it meant her life, she ignored the burning in her knees, hands, and shoulder. Clung to him. “Wh-where did you go? I could not find you.” Her eyes burned but she blinked away the tears.
