Chapter 20 · You're Hit

"You're hit."

Lucas crashed into me as another bullet tore through the rusted cabinet behind us. Hot blood soaked his coat and slicked my palm.

"Keep moving," he snapped.

"You're bleeding."

"Evelyn, move!"

Wardens shouted from the archive entrance. Harrow fired again.

The shot cracked over our heads. Metal dust sprayed into my eyes, and Lucas shoved me between two leaning rows of cabinets.

I ducked beside him. His arm dropped over my shoulders, heavy and shaking. I wrapped mine around his waist and hauled him forward.

"You don't get to die here," I hissed.

"Wasn't planning on it."

"You look like you are."

"Keep insulting me. It's distracting."

"Good. Then listen. If you fall, I'm leaving you."

"Liar."

"Try me."

His mouth tightened. He knew I wouldn't leave him.

That was the problem.

We pushed toward the center chamber while files burst from broken shelves beneath our boots. Sparks rained from a damaged light. One caught a stack of papers, and flames raced up the old archive wall.

Scorched paper and blood burned the back of my throat.

Lucas stopped beneath the black iron archive seal. A steel console sat half-hidden under the desk below it.

"There," he said.