Page 102 of The Game

“Adam gave me the new key,” he mutters, scowling at us.

Fabian sets down his backpack and pulls a few things out of it, including a gun. Jesus holds up his hands.

“Holy shit, Fab.”

“Just a precaution,” he says, waving at Jesus to put his hands down.

He presses a button on a device and gives it to Kate. “Geiger counter to check for radioactivity. Just to cover ourselves.”

“I’m going to open the door on a surprise, okay? We need to be wary of it triggering something.”

“You wanna look on the fire escape first? You can see right into his living room,” Jesus says.

Fab meets my eyes. “Go,” he says, and Jesus beckons me into his apartment across the hallway and shows me some rickety ironwork outside his bedroom window. I climb onto his bed and out of the window, testing my foot on the platform that wraps around the corner of the building.

Peering through Adam’s windows, I can’t see much, but then I spot him. I pull out my phone. “He’s on the couch, Fab. Hand dangling down, not moving. I can’t see anything else.”

“Goddamn it.”

A bang ricochets in the distance, and the door bounces open and hits the wall on the far side of the room. Fuck, he’s going in.

“Freeze!” Fabian shouts. “Put down your weapons. We are armed and will shoot to kill.”

A laugh bubbles up inside me.It’s just nerves. And shit, I’m the backup! I push on the window trying to break in, but it doesn’t budge, so I scrabble back along the fire escape and in through Jesus’s window again. When I reach Adam’s apartment, Kate is on her knees next to Adam, talking to him but getting no response, pulling up his eyelids and holding his wrist. Fabian is stomping around at the top of his spiral staircase, presumably checking for intruders.

“Is he alive?” I gasp.

“Yes.” Kate blows out a long breath. “But his pulse is very thready.” She pulls out her phone and dials 911.

I pick up the Geiger counter from where she’s dropped it on the floor. There’s no reading for radiation. I listen as she talks with the emergency responder.

“Shouldn’t we just take him? Wouldn’t it be faster?” Fabian says as he hammers down the stairs from the platform that houses Adam’s bedroom.

“They’ll be here in minutes, Fab, and it’s safer. They have all the right equipment. If he arrests on the way, I might not be able to do anything.”

I can see Fab doesn’t like that answer. He puts his hand on Adam’s hair. “Come on, buddy, I can’t lose you,” he says.

My whole throat swells up.

“Help me turn him onto his side,” Kate says.

It really is only minutes before the paramedics arrive, and of course they know Kate. We manhandle Adam down the stairs—because the elevator in his building won’t fit a stretcher—and into the waiting ambulance.

“One person,” the paramedic says, and Kate doesn’t hesitate—she jumps right on in.

“We’ll see you there,” Fabian says.

“NYU Langone,” the paramedic adds as the doors slam shut and the ambulance takes off, lights flashing.

I’ve already booked an Uber, which turns the corner minutes later, and Fab and I pile in the back. His leg is bouncing on the seat next to me as the store windows with all their colorful Christmas lights flash past and we speed through the empty streets.

“Those fucking bastards. I’m going to unleash an unholy war on their fucking operations. They won’t know what’s fucking hit them. They think they can mess with Adam Miller? Think again, amigos.”

I reach out and press his shoulder. “Let’s just see Adam through this first, all right?”

“If he’s even okay after this. If he’s not, I …” He leans forward and slams his fist into the seat in front and I grip his arm as the driver glowers in the rearview mirror.

“He’s okay,” I say.

---