“You okay?” I asked, noticing Cruz standing off to the side, now with a rifle in his hands.
“Peachy,” Amber answered for all of them. “Can we get the hell out of here, please?”
I nodded, looking around for the signs guiding us to the various exits. We had come around the backside of the stadium, and the signs read that we were close to exit F. I spent an instant debating the pros and cons of staying on this level.
“We need to get to the ground level,” Ms. Dale announced, her mind grappling with the same problem. “There’s the stairs. Let’s head down them and get lost in the crowd.”
Opening my mouth to reply in agreement, I looked over her shoulder and froze as I saw a pair of wardens leveling their weapons at us. My right hand shot up, finger on the trigger, but a spray of fire tore across them before I could pull it, their bodies jerking as the bullets impacted.
They fell bonelessly to the floor, and behind me, I saw Cruz lower the rifle, smoke trailing from its muzzle. He met my gaze with a shrug, and then nodded toward the exit.
“Let’s get out of here,” he called, heading forward.
Jeff and Cad were already moving. I let out a breath, shook my head, and then hightailed it after them, urging Ms. Dale and Amber forward. We headed toward the gap in the wall where the stairs were waiting, moving at a flat run.
Cruz reached the stairs first and positioned himself right behind the wall at the top, covering us. I peered over my shoulder, well aware that wardens could be coming up behind us. Jeff and Cad made the stairs, and I grimaced as Cad practically leapt down to the first landing, hearing the sound of his shoes sliding on the floor as he hit. Amber and Ms. Dale were more practical as they raced down, their feet flying down the steps. I tapped Cruz, and he followed them.
I waited, wanting to give them a few seconds to head downstairs in safety, my eyes flicking from one end of the hallway to the other. I could still hear the sound of gunfire through the doors just past me, but it was growing more sporadic, the screams inside lost in the sound of nearer screams tearing through the halls as, hopefully, people got out.
My heart hammered in my chest as I waited for Cruz to clear the next landing. As soon as he was down, I moved. The back of my neck tingled in anticipation of a gunshot as I raced down the stairs, but none came. Clearing the landing, I saw Cad and Jeff waiting for me, waving me forward and left. I ran past them just as gunfire exploded overhead, the crack of it echoing loudly in the enclosed, concrete stairwell.
I didn’t stop. Ms. Dale and Amber had reached the bottom floor, which opened onto a small foyer for a back exit—thankfully, we’d reached one of the main stairwells that ran all the way down to the ground floor. The two women stopped at the sight of two wardens guarding this entrance, currently facing sideways from us to pour bullets into the encroaching crowd.
I raised my gun, but Amber and Ms. Dale were already on it, mowing them down—hopefully making room for more panicked people to escape. If there were any left, that was.
Apparently there were. People began clamoring into the foyer from the wide doors that led to the stadium, surging toward us as we raced from the stairs to the door, our paths intersecting in a rush like an old cavalry battle. I pressed my shoulder against the wall, steadying myself in the crowd that swirled around me, and followed Ms. Dale and Amber as they raced for a small lobby door twenty feet ahead. Ms. Dale kicked it open as she reached it and pushed Amber through, pressing out behind her. The late afternoon sunlight beamed through the opening into the dim room like a ray of hope. Cruz was seconds behind them, seeming to appear from nowhere as he leapt through.
I raced for it as well, grunting as a woman slammed into me, her face splattered with blood. She took a look at the gun in my hand and then screamed, jerking away. I reached out, trying to catch her, to steady her, but she disappeared into the crowd as it raced by. I cursed, my anger souring in my stomach, but didn’t stop moving, even as the crowd jostled me.
We were at the doors now. “Come on,” I shouted to Jeff and Cad over my shoulder as I made it to the door, but I wasn’t sure where they were in the crowd.
A group of civilians pushed me through it, and I snagged the doorframe, using it to swing myself around and off to the side. Jeff tumbled through a moment later, his gun flying from his hand and getting lost under the crowd’s pounding feet. I reached out and grabbed him under his arm, pulling him to his feet before the rush of fleeing people plowed him under as well.
Cad was there seconds later, pushing us forward. I raced ahead, pulling Jeff with me for a few feet, and saw Cruz standing fifty feet away on the pavement. He was waving his arm frantically in the narrow access road that curved around the stadium, leading to the main street. Beyond him, a few exits down, I saw the ambulance. Ms. Dale and Amber were already sprinting toward it, their faces red from exertion. I poured on the speed, Jeff and Cad sprinting toward the car in my wake. When we finally made it there, Ms. Dale had yanked open the doors, and the group of us simply leapt into the back. Everyone stayed there, except for me: I pushed forward to the front.