“What do you mean, they’re not here?” I asked.
Anna continued to shine her flashlight. “Take a look. There’s still some bedding and clothing laying around, even some food. Looks like they left in a hurry, maybe they heard us coming in the front?”
My senses tingled. “I doubt that. We were really quiet and I’m sure we would have heard something if thirty-odd kids were scampering around. I don’t like this at all.”
My words were barely cold when I heard a scuffling noise from above us. Moving instinctively, I grabbed Anna’s arm and dragged her behind the closest cover. It was an old, rusty forklift that probably hadn’t operated in over ten years. The sound of shots rang out and the wall where we’d been standing moments before was peppered with bullet holes.
“Contact!” I shouted in my mike,
