Read Online Turn or Burn by Boo Walker - Free Book Online Page A

shape of claws. God help anyone or anything that was close by, because I wanted to break and throw and kick and punch and destroy it all.
    I finally let out a yell that shook the building. That release led me to black out.
    When I came to seconds later, I was rocking back and forth. No , I told myself. No, no, no. You get your act together. You are a soldier, Knox.
    Finding strength, I dug deep down and brought myself back. The body obeys the mind. The body obeys the mind . And it did.
    I took Ted’s hand and put my face up to what was left of his. “Say hello to your brother for me,” I uttered. “I’m sorry. I’m so damn sorry.”

CHAPTER 11
    I returned to reality with sharpened focus. A soldier’s focus. We had to get the doctor out of there. That’s all that mattered at the moment. That was the mission. Ted was gone, and there was no bringing him back.
    As cops poured into the room, the three of us worked our way out the door. Holding Dr. Sebastian’s arm, I screamed, “Private security! Two female shooters down. There may be more. They’re after the doctor here. I have to get him out.”
    Dr. Sebastian was in terrible shock, as anyone not accustomed to violence would have been. We had Ted’s blood splattered all over our bodies. But once we were out of the room and working our way toward an exit, he said, “My family…please make sure they are okay.”
    “I’ll call them,” Francesca said, walking next to us. She dug the phone out of her pocket and dialed. “Dervitz, evacuate the family. Someone went after Sebastian. We will reconnect soon.” She hung up.
    We found a set of stairs on the other side of the floor and were able to disappear before too many cops got involved. We knew it was only a matter of time before someone stopped us and kept us from leaving. I couldn’t have that. We weren’t going to lose anyone else.
    Breaking out the door into the parking garage, we found more chaos. A line of cars was trying to work its way to the exit as people ran by them, desperately searching for safety.
    Francesca and Dr. Sebastian piled into the car. I checked underneath and made one circle around just to make sure we didn’t have any surprises waiting on us. I was at about 60 percent of my old self, but my survival instincts were helping fight the PTSD. We had to get out of there.
    I hopped into the driver’s seat and got us moving. The cars were backed up trying to make their way out. I took a left and drove under the sign that said Wrong Way , and it worked. I noticed some other cars following me as I began to circle around the ramp.
    “I need you to take care of my family,” Dr. Sebastian said again from the backseat.
    Francesca turned around to face him. “They’re okay,” she said. “Will is moving them, and we’ll have you guys together very soon.” He thanked her.
    Francesca turned back around. In times like these, you don’t notice the beauty. You notice the strength. No tears. No wailing. No confusion. No shock. A strong woman paid to protect. Francesca Daly was one hell of a woman, and I needed to put a little effort into respecting her. She was a soldier, and she was on my side, and I was thankful for it.
    “What do you think?” I asked her, inching further into the traffic. “Probably need to get out of town.”
    “Assuming they’re after the doctor, which we really can’t be sure about, I agree with you. Where do you want to meet the others?”
    “Get them on I-5 North. We’ll figure it out from there.”
    As she called Dervitz again, I spun through the radio stations trying to get a little more color on what had happened. I found a local station talking about the scene and let it play. They didn’t know much. The first shot had been fired less than fifteen minutes ago.
    We finally made it out of the garage and onto the main street. It appeared that most of the protesters had no idea what had happened. They were still everywhere, marching and shouting and holding up their