♠ Revolution ♠

This was Connor’s cue to leap across the rooftop, wrap his arms around Gertie, and carry her with him over the wall, onto the sloping steel roof, and thence to the ground. Fortunately, behind the crossbow-wielding new arrivals.

Fortunate for Connor. Not for the new arrivals. Trapped in a crossfire for the few seconds it took Vihaan to run out of ammo and die – not necessarily in that order – the new boys jerked and jumped in a freakish dance that would have made Michael Jackson green with envy.

Then it was quiet. No shots rang out. Nobody screamed. The only sound Connor heard was his own laboured breathing. Had he been hit? Had he broken anything in the fall, trying to shield the girl from the worst of it? Or was he just getting old?

Gertie was out cold. Hopefully still alive. He had to work fast. Weapon holstered, he picked the girl off the ground and was about to toss her into a fireman’s hold when he noticed her Alice band. It had been knocked loose during the fall, and had broken against the concrete driveway. A loose wire sparked in the twilight.

He shook his head. Amateurs. Gertie had been broadcasting their position all along.

Connor knew the consequences of the gunshots. Only two types of people carried guns in a city on lockdown. The police and terrorists. Connor was pretty sure he didn’t fall into either category. Three types, then.

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Cheers.