Chapter Twenty-SixThe adrenaline in my system focuses my mind. “Shoot!” I shout at Felix and aim my own gun at the nearest hospital-gown-clad dude—codename Johnny One.
There’s a horrified scream in my earbud.
It’s either Rose or a banshee with a pearl diver’s lung capacity.
Doing my best to ignore the noise, I pull the trigger.
All the Johnnies must’ve pressed their triggers at the same time; the resulting noise is deafening.
Johnny One hits the ground but tries to crawl. I must not have hurt him badly. Still, maybe numbering them isn’t such a good idea.
To my relief, Vlad’s head doesn’t look like a pasta drainer; he must’ve anticipated the gunfire because he’s moving like a blur on Felix’s gun’s screen.
Is Vlad’s speed too fast for the night vision camera to properly capture, or is
