“Zach!” I call out in a hushed yell. But he’s too far to hear me, so I continue after the girl.
She runs out of the front of the Safeway and darts left. When I get to the store entrance, I pause for a second. Standing to my left, about twenty feet away, the girl stares at me like she did earlier.
Down on one knee, I gesture her over. “Come here. I don’t mean any harm.”
She takes a few cautious steps forward. She’s just out of reach.
“I’m lost,” she says. Her face is still blank. No expression.
“When was the last time you saw your parents?”
“My parents are dead.” She frowns.
“I’m sorry to hear that. Come back into the store and tell me about it. I’ll give you a treat.” If I can get her back into the store, maybe I can keep her occupied long enough to warn Zach and get us the hell out of here.
I put my hand out to her, palm upward. The second I do, she takes off running again. She gets to the edge of the Safeway and turns left.
I give up. I’m not going to chase this girl all around town. I have to get Zach and clear out as fast as we can. But when I turn around, a man is behind me, holding a rifle at my head.
“Drop it!” he yells.
He’s made a serious tactical error though. He’s standing too close. He’ll never expect what I’m about to do, so I have the element of surprise. In a flash, I close the distance between us and swat away the barrel of his rifle with the barrel of mine. His gun goes off, but it shoots harmlessly to my left. In the same motion, I smash him in the head with the butt of my rifle, and he crumples to the ground.
Never saw it coming.
But neither did I. A sharp pain stabs in the back of my skull, and a blinding flash of white envelops my vision. I’m only vaguely aware of my body crumpling to the ground.
Then darkness.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
From Bad to Worse
ZACH
Picking a lock takes a steady hand and concentration. The trick is to turn the lock enough to put tension on the pins. Then you insert a small pick and push up each of the pins until you hear the slightest click. Once you’ve done that to all the pins—voilà—the lock turns, and that’s just what I do.
I remove the lock from the rolling door and slide it open.
“Aiden. I got it.”
But my excitement quickly turns to disappointment. Inside are nothing but empty shelves. Someone beat us to it and cleaned out the pharmacy entirely. Not so much as a bottle of aspirin.
“Aiden. It’s a bust.”
No answer. Hmm.
“Aiden?” I turn around and see no sign of him. But the aisles are too high to see all the way across. I head along the back of the store, looking down each aisle as I pass, calling his name.
“Aiden?”
“Aiden.”
Down the next aisle, his backpack rests on the floor, leaning against a shelf. My chest tightens as I approach it. Still no sign of him. When I get to the backpack, the rifle is missing.
“Aiden!” I call out. Okay, I’m getting freaked out now.
The sound of a gunshot outside sends my pulse through the roof. I sling the backpack over my shoulders and grab the .45 out of the front pocket, all while running to the entrance. I’m just in time to see Aiden struck in the back of the head with the butt of a rifle. He falls to the ground, his attacker standing above him.
