I know she hears me, but she’s not listening.
“The side door is cracked open,” she whispers out, only a step behind me. The door she’s talking about is across from the truck and made of tinted glass and metal. Had I not been running toward it, I wouldn’t have noticed it’s ajar. “No one’s supposed to be here,” Kissy adds as my hand tightens around the handle.
I don’t respond.
The screaming turns into bursts of what I only can describe as a wailing of sorts. Pain and fear on repeat. It’s a woman, and she’s definitely inside the shelter. The second we’re on the other side of the door, its echo surrounds us.
The hallway we’re in is long and narrow and splits from our door to a door opposite. It isn’t glass, but I assume it leads back outside. To our right is the addition Kissy mentioned the day before that was made into the warehouse when it was converted for the shelter. It’s the office, and the doors leading to it are all closed. To our left are a few more doors shut tight too. There’s also a hallway opening smack dab in the middle. Kissy is at my ear; she points to the second opening.
“She must be in the warehouse,” is all she says.
I don’t need a sit-down talk about the layout, so I push forward and slow at the corner of the new opening. I peek around it.
I wish I had my service weapon. So does half of my brothers. Kilpatrick, Macy, and Jesse all made a fuss about me deciding to not carry after leaving law enforcement. Maximus and Lee, though, understood that after my time working in Orlando—after what happened that ended that work—I’m not a fan of handling any weapons. It’s not a political stance, and it’s not an emotional one. It’s like being burned by a fire and deciding that you want to stay away from lighting matchesandlighters in the future because of it.
Then again, right now, I’d jump into the blaze if it meant I had something to help keep Kissy protected.
The new hallway leads along the length of the rest of the building before opening up into what I imagine a true warehouse to look like. There are doors and windows looking into rooms leading up to the open space at the back. The few lights on are the ones above us. The hallway and warehouse beyond only have the lighting from windows I can’t see yet.
It casts pockets of shadows across the warehouse.
And along the woman wailing on the floor in the distance.
My mind goes the only place it can.
It’s not her.
It’snother.
My leg stiffens.
Kissy uses the hesitation to move ahead of me, which shakes me out of my head.
“Kissy,” I hiss at her, but she’s fast.
She’s at the woman seconds before I can get there, and when she yells out, her cry is coated in worry. “Oh my God! Alice!”
Kissy goes down to her knees next to a woman with dark hair, wide, terrified eyes, and what looks to be a gunshot wound in her side. I see the blood across her blouse and follow it to the concrete floor. It streaks to a spot a foot or so away.
Next to a discarded gun.
“What happened?” Kissy asks.
I’m about to tell her to put pressure on the wound, but Kissy’s flattened palm is already against it. With the other hand, she moves her cell phone to the call keypad. Alice yells out but manages to answer when she has her breath back.
“They-They shot me, Kissy!” Alice’s statement is punctuated by another yell of pain.
I want to take a closer look, but my eyes swing away from the women and scan the space around us. There are boxes and crates and the odd cleaning supply. Nothing big enough to hide someone. Still, there’s a lot more space in the shelter that I can’t see.
“Are they still here?” I ask the woman.
But Alice isn’t answering.
I share a look with Kissy. If Alice hadn’t said there was more than one attacker, I would leave the gun right where it is. I don’t have gloves on me, and touching it puts my prints right there on a discharged weapon. Yet, I have nothing but my fists and a slight limp to protect the three of us, and that won’t do. I grab the gun and decide to take the consequences that come with it. “Stay here,” I tell her.
She nods and taps at her phone one-handed.
The handgun has some weight to it, definitely loaded. I hold it close and keep the women to my back as much as I can as I test the door at the side of the expansive space.
