Ryden screamed, and shut the door. There were thirty feet from the bottom of another stairwell, and the vague reddish glow from the exit sign provided her enough light to see Kennedy, motionless, facedown on the floor. “Oh, my God. Kennedy!” Ryden fell to her knees. “Can you hear me?” She wiped the hair from Kennedy’s face. “Kennedy, please don’t—” The woman in black bent over and grabbed the gun from Kennedy’s hand. “Are you crazy?” She turned to the stranger with tears in her eyes. “She was trying to get us out and—” “I told her to leave me.” The woman looked down at Kennedy’s back, where a dark hole had appeared in her brown leather jacket. “Give her a moment. She’s winded, that’s all.” She flipped Kennedy over, onto her back, then slapped her. “Don’t you touch her.” Ryden pushed the stranger away. “What are you doing?” “She’s wearing a vest,” the woman replied, and went to stand with her ear to the door. No sooner had the words left her mouth than Kennedy’s eyes fluttered open.
