Chapter ThirtyI half expect Rose’s muted screams to carry all the way from Manhattan to Brooklyn. Maybe I’m projecting, though. I’d love to scream my own lungs out, but I contain the urge.
The Johnny falls—a new red stain in the middle of his gown.
I wait a beat to see if he will get up, Koschei style.
He stays dead.
Felix’s gun beeps again; he must’ve shot at another target.
“Let’s move!” I yell at him and hurry down the hallway.
His back sticking to mine, Felix follows me, only stopping to shoot three times.
From the hallway, we enter a small room.
Felix smacks the door behind us to close it, turns on his heel, and shoots a Johnny running at us from the south corner of the room.
Without hesitation, I get my lock picks ready and work on the door, hoping that locking a door is sim
