The Cost

Chapter 11-Amotz

"We are not necessarily doubting that God will do the best for us; we are wondering how painful the best will turn out to be." C.S. Lewis

Slowly, the first shadow raised his hand, followed by a click. "Don't move," he ordered in a low voice as he pointed the weapon at us.

I turned to my left and saw that Trish had already pulled out a gun of her own. "I recognize that voice, Finn. You're under arrest."

"Hey, I could fire at your pal any time," the man hissed.

"And I can shoot quicker than you would be able to move a limb," she answered evenly, not bothering to be quiet anymore. "Drop the gun."

Before the man could react, I barreled into him like a football player, tackling him to the ground so that the weapon escaped his fingers and clattered out of reach. I grabbed hold of it before the other thug could and aimed at my now helpless opponent, who spat out a curse about his new predicament.

A small light flicked on, blinding me a little. In that moment, Finn darted up from the ground, pinning me to the alley wall. Wendell, who was holding the light, pointed his gun at me. "Don't move or make so much as a squeak, little enforcer. Pains me how they send kids to deal with first class criminals." He laughed, putting the light to my face. "I knew there was something I didn't like about you."

There was a low pulsing noise and Wendell suddenly clutched his arm in pain , dropping the gun. In the moment of surprise, I jabbed my knee into my captor's groin before sending a fist into his face and jerking downward from his grasp. I stood up, snatching the gun on my way. As Wendell panted and cursed under his breath, Finn seemed unsure about what to do next.

Sirens again. Then heavy booted feet could be heard coming in the direction of the alley. Somehow, we all knew the enforcers wouldn't be passing by us this time.

"The passage," Wendell muttered to me. He directed his finger to where the wall marked a dead end before grasping his injured arm again. "Get us there, fast! He turned to Finn as Trish, who was closer to the planned escape route, ran for the wall. I slowly helped Wendell to his feet, letting the man's good arm hang around my neck for support. I could tell Wendell hated to be assisted but had chosen to tolerate that over the risk of being captured. "Finn!" he hissed as his companion looked out the mouth of the alley, unmoving. "Snap out of it!"

Wendell and I were closer to Trish now as she continued to hunt for some way to access what was beyond the wall. Letting himself sink to the ground with a sharp intake of breath from the pain it caused, Wendell began to feel around in the shadows. I realized there was some blood on my shirt from his wound and searched around for a handkerchief or something to stop the bleeding. "Got a cloth or something?" I whispered to Trish. There wasn't much time, but if he lost too much blood he might go unconscious.

She whipped out a bandage from the belt around her waist and quickly bent down to wrap Wendell's arm as a small computer screen appeared in front of him. He scowled at her but said nothing as he typed in a few numbers. The pounding of feet sounded closer and a hiss followed with part of the wall being moved aside. I looked back. Finn still hadn't followed us.

"Finn!" Wendell said in a loud whisper. "What are you—?"

Gunshots. I guided Wendell to his feet again, helping him limp inside the passage. Trish had just barely finished wrapping his arm, and he cursed again as he felt the pain of his wound.

"Stay here," I said when Wendell and Trish were both inside the dark interior of our escape.

"Take this," she handed me her pulse gun. "Just in case."