The Galilee Falls Trilogy (Book 3): Fall of Heroes (38 page)

“I think I saw two white panel vans outside the warehouse. I can’t be sure but I think the canisters are in them.”

“Put out a BOLO for two white panel vans,” he says into his comms. “There might be volatile bio-hazardous material in them.”

“That’s him. Monitor twelve.”

Definitely Bennett. Three henchmen with guns hustle down a hall with a shorter man in the center.

“We’ve got incoming,” Justin says, pointing to a monitor in the corner. Three more men sprint down a hallway, I assume toward us. “We have to go. Here.” He removes his HEPA mask before I can protest. He could have just signed his death warrant. “They know what you look like. Put it on.”

As I comply, Justin removes the guns and comms units from the unconscious men, bringing them back to me. He slips one gun into his pants waist and gives me the comms and spare clip. I put in the Bluetooth and follow my partner out of this slaughterhouse. The henchmen chatter over the radio. Number sixteen is almost done in the warehouse. Four, eight, and twelve are proceeding down corridor-C to the overseer office. Eleven reports the helicopter is three minutes out. Six, nine, and two are en route with Motoneslly. “We need to reach the helipad,” I say.

The three guards round the corner, and I lower my gaze. “…shame we’ll never be able to put this on the resume,” I say, using my New Urbana accent. “I don’t know about you but I’ve been saving every penny.”

“Very smart of you,” Justin says. “We should go out for drinks after this.”

The guards walk past us with only a cursory glance.

“Only if you’re buying, handsome,” I say. “Need it after a day like—”

We turn the corner and cut the chatter. They don’t follow, so I assume it worked. “I didn’t see a helipad,” Justin says. “The roofs are arched with vents and HEPA filters. It could be landing in a field. We’re surrounded by one.”

“Well, I am more than ready to leave this building. Let’s get the fucker.”

Head up, looking straight ahead, no one even pays us a second glance as we join the hurrying throng down the hall and through the lobby. Gunfire in a building set to explode has gotta make anyone run for the nearest exit. Despite the fact it’s snowing again, with half an inch down already, people mill around the front parking lot, not sure what to do next. The intelligent ones climb into their identical cars, the same model Ryder stole, and begin driving down the only road to the open gate. “This is bullshit,” one of the workers says. “Let’s just go.”

“Are we allowed?”

Justin and I break away from the crowd toward the side of the large building. Three stories high, gray as the sky, and if not for the lack of windows and giant smokestack looking cylinders with familiar HEPA filters on top, it could pass for a very long, regular office building. Not that anyone would even have cause to come out here. We’re flanked by dense forest on all four sides after about a football field length of field on every side. More than enough space to land a helicopter. I scan the gray and white sky but don’t see one. Shit, I should have grabbed a jacket during our escape. Not even rubbing my arms as we run along the building’s perimeter helps much.

“Agents, ETA?” Justin asks to our cavalry.

Four, eight, twelve have no luck finding me, proceeding outside. Eleven reports helicopter one minute out.

“Where the fuck is it?” I ask myself, scanning the skies again.

We continue walking the perimeter and a thirty second later I hear it, the whirl of the helicopter blades. The metal bird begins descending from the gray clouds. On the other side of the building. “Shit,” Justin says.

We
won’t make it in time. He glances at me, and I him. We read each other’s minds. “We
need
the flash drives. No. Matter. What.”

He quickly kisses my forehead. “Get out of here. I won’t let you down.”

I hand him the mask. A superhero isn’t one without a mask. “I know. Go.”

My friend zooms away off to stop the villain. Bennett doesn’t stand a chance.

I give myself a whole second to take a deep breath and release it. Feels like I haven’t had the opportunity to do that in months. But I only get the one. I run as fast as I can, my overtaxed hip aching with every step, back to the parking lot in case Justin needs ground support. I’ll shadow the helicopter by car just in case. I pull out the cell phone. “Stone is attempting to leave by helicopter,” I tell the 911 dispatcher. “Inform air traffic control—”

Gunshots overshadow the chop of the helicopter and my own words. My first instinct is to change course again and run after my friend. To help. But he can more than handle a few henchmen and gunshots. I won’t reach him in time anyway. So though it goes against my instinct, I continue toward the parking lot. The helicopter disappears as it lands. The gunfire continues in short bursts, I think as Justin fires back. Nothing I can do. He’ll be fine.
He’ll be fine
.

I finally reach the parking lot, panting like a dog, as the gunshots continue. Worse, as the helicopter rises. Just keep going, Jo. I—

Oh, fuck.

It’s him. Motherfucker.

Fifty yards away. Talking to another hulking henchman. Opening the SUV’s driver side door.

“He’s not in the helicopter,” I whisper.

Who-Who-I-I don’t have comms to Justin. What…? Bennett climbs into the SUV. I’m walking his way, pressing the cell phone to my ear before his second leg gets inside. “Stone is not in the helicopter. Repeat, not in the helicopter. He’s in a black Range Rover about to depart down Shadowbrooke Rd. I am in pursuit.” I sprint through the parking lot toward the nearest worker getting into her car. “Excuse me.” The redhead looks up at me, her eyes bugging out behind her glasses when she notices the gun in my hand. “I need your car.” She whimpers as I snatch the keys from her hand. “Thank you.”

The SUV begins out of the parking lot as I get in and start the car. Before I even put it into gear, the woman runs screaming toward the henchman. Nothing I can do now.
Nothing
matters but catching the bastard. He continues driving down the road at a normal, cautious speed with snow on the ground until the gunshots begin again, this time directed at us. He—

The back window explodes, and I can’t help but shriek. As I lose a precious second focusing on the fact I’m under fire, the SUV speeds up. Shit. More gunfire and I lose another second. The front window cracks as the bullet passes through. Fuck this.

Pedal to the metal.

Bennett’s got a small lead growing by the moment. Not for long, asshole. By the time we reach the gate, he’s only a hundred feet ahead. Ninety. Eighty. You are not getting away.
You’re not.
You’re—

We round a turn, and my car hydroplanes. I turn the wheel to gain control, losing precious time. Back to ninety feet. Fucking snow. I roll down the window and fire at him. Not even close. He must switch gears because ninety feet becomes hundred. One ten. Shit. I haven’t been in a car chase since Ryder escaped. If only I’d caught him that night. If I hasn’t failed. Rebecca. Daisy. Justin. Me. I
will not
fail now. Not tonight.

Bennett takes the corner and luck finally finds me. His back tire veers left and right, almost driving off the road. I take the turn with care as he attempts to gain control. Eighty. Seventy. Turn cleared, I floor it again. Sixty. Fifty. Bennett’s hand comes out his window holding a gun. He fires, twice, missing me. I grip the steering wheel hard enough it hurts. My heart, my mind, the whole of me runs on adrenaline. I barely exist inside myself. I am nothing but that righteous purpose. I will not fail.

Another curve in the road ahead. As if God himself speaks to me, I know what must be done. The exact degree of the curve. The precise speed needed. The slight incline of the ground right before the curve. My mind crunches the numbers. The physics and machinations of an SUV vs. a small Sedan. All laid out before me. I grip the wheel with the strength of Hercules. I will not fail.

Bennett decelerates at the curve only ten miles per hour, but that’s all I require. The second he reaches it, I gun this beast for every mph she can muster.
Now
. The moment I hit that off-road incline the natural order of the universe takes the wheel. A vague notion of fear enters my brain as I lift off the ground, but I don’t
feel
it. My brain enters a protective cocoon to shield me from the trauma of what occurs the next moment. As my car smashes into his with the force of a meteor impact. As I’m flung forward and backward at almost the same second, metal and glass shattering and tearing around me. I’m aware of my arms shielding my face and head from the airbag and debris then the pure torture in my left arm and forehead. Of the car landing back on the asphalt and this broken machine skidding left, right, in a circle. Of my lizard brain forcing my arm to grab the wild wheel and press on the breaks. Of Bennett’s SUV flipping before zooming toward the forest. My car skids to a stop for what seems like three hours but can only be three seconds later. I’m stopped. I’m—

Fuck!

Pain. Arm. Head. Neck. Chest. Hip. Cheeks. That cuts through the fog first. What…? Something hot running down my forehead from the source of the pain. I move my left arm to touch the hot, but pure agony radiates from that appendage. I think I scream. Fuck.
Fuck.
More seconds pass, just me and the pain, before I can focus again. The mission. Keep going, Jo. I will not fail.

Using my good arm, I unbuckle my seatbelt and open the door. Keep going, Jo. My whole body protests as I climb out of the demolished car. My legs won’t support me at first. My knees buckle and I fall to the snow. Fuck. I close my eyes and take a painful, deep breath. “Get up, bitch.
Get up
.” Gritting my teeth, I use my good arm and the car to help me rise. “Don’t do that again.
Don’t
.”

Okay. Okay. I wipe the blood from my eye and begin to survey the site. Tire marks to the trees. Broken limbs. Smoke billowing into the gray sky. Bennett. “One foot in front of the other, Jo. One step at a time. You can do this. You will not fail.
Go
.” The first step is the hardest. My ribs, my head, even my shredded legs and hip protest the movement so much I fear I’ll throw up again. The second isn’t much better. “Keep going, Jo. Just keep going.” Third. Fourth.

Keep going.

I somehow make it to the tree line, over the shattered branches, and seven steps in I see it down the slight hill. The SUV. The front is a smoking accordion with a large branch staked through the windshield. He must have hit at top speed. That’s what happens when an unstoppable force meets an immovable object. You can’t fight the natural order. I can’t see Bennett through his shattered side window. He has to be in there. He
has
to.

I limp to the wreck, leaving drips of blood like bread crumbs the whole way. The reek of gasoline assails my nose. It’s gonna blow. “Pick up the pace. Go.” I use my last bit of adrenaline and drive to make the rest of the trek to the SUV. “Please, please, please…”

I open the door and my prayers are answered. He’s here.

Bennett sits upright, face and head a bleeding mess, but the worst is the downward branch impaling his right abdomen. Smoke wafts through the almost disintegrated windshield but he doesn’t move or stir. For a moment, a flash of regret and sadness echoes through me. Not for this man, but the Bennett Stone I laughed with. Who helped me through the most difficult time in my life. Who gave my life new purpose and a path, even if it was built on lies. He was my friend. He was. And I’ll miss him. But the moment passes. That man’s dead, and this monster is still alive. For now.

Flash drives. Get the flash drives. I reach into his left hand pockets but nothing. He still doesn’t wake. I’m going to have to do this. I get in so close I could kiss him. He’s still alive. Still breathing right on my head. They’re not in the right cardigan pocket. Not in his right overcoat. Oh, please. Please…I feel them. Right pants pocket. His blood pours out over my hands as I reach in and remove them. Thank—

“Joanna.”

His voice startles me. I gasp and look up. He stares down at me, nose dripping blood on my head. I meet his pained, teary eyes. That’s when I feel it. Something hard pointed against my chest. I glance down. A gun. I look back up to find a sad smile on his face.

“I really did have the best of intentions, you know,” he whispers. “The suffering…if I could save one person from enduring what I did…worth it. It
is
the right thing, Jo. The way it
should
be. Why can’t you see that? Why? If anyone should…”

“Bennett…” I whimper.

“It’s not too late, gorgeous,” he whispers, tears falling. Eyes pleading. “Don’t make me do this, Jo. I don’t want to do this. Not to you. Just let it go. Leave it. Walk away from this one. It’s not your fight. You don’t owe them anything. You’ve given enough.
They
are not worth it. Just…let go. Please, gorgeous.
Please.
”

I stare into his agonized, tear filled, heartbroken eyes and just shake my head. “If you truly think I would ever,
ever
do that…you never knew me at all.”

Flash drives clutched in my fist, I move away from my friend.

Bang!

I hear the shot before I feel a thing. It isn’t until I’m standing that the pressure begins. The pain. Before I gaze down and see the growing red bloom in my chest. Huh. I stagger backwards as the realization I’ve been shot finally dawns on me.

“Goddamn you, Joanna Fallon,” Bennett cries disappointedly. He raises the gun again. “Goddamn—”

The explosion sends me literally flying backwards several feet. I register the heat, the light, the force, my airless state, then the fall. I land on my back, the air knocking out of me. I stare up at the gray sky as the snowflakes dance down and melt on my face for seconds. Hours? I don’t know. Nothing and everything hurts. Pressure on my chest like the weight of the world. I’m so cold. I think this is shock. Maybe I’ve been in shock this whole time. The human body’s a marvel. Did Pop feel like this when he was shot? He must have. Oh, Pop. I hope I’ve made you proud.