SIX
Taking the stairs two, sometimes three at a time, I sprinted away from Lovat Central PD. The bullet hole screamed at me with every step. I could feel the warmth of my blood as it gurgled from the wound and down my arm.
I ignored the pain as best I could (which wasn't very well) as I flew down the caged stairwell descending from the fifth level down into the fourth. The stairwell had been close to the station, but I gambled that the officers in pursuit of me would expect me to take a public lift rather than the stairs.
I had won the hand.
The sub-floors of Lovat Central Police Department hung like a stalactite from the ceiling of Level Four. The mirrored glass windows hid any prying eyes, but I swore I could feel the presence of lookouts watching my hasty descent, reporting my locat
