34. Cain
Thirty-Four
Cain
Miles goes down hard. I get to him, laying him flat on the floor.
“Doc!” I shout.
My pulse is loud in my ears. I should’ve forced him to stop sooner. I should’ve taken the keyboard away from him the moment he started shaking.
“Talk to me,” I say.
“He’s out. Blood pressure’s dropping again. I need to…”
“Then do it.” My voice comes out harder than I mean it to. “Don’t tell me what you need. Just keep him alive.”
The doctor’s jaw tightens, but he nods and gets to work. I leave him to it and turn back to the desk. The screens are still live; I've been following Sadie down a corridor.
Behind me the doctor mutters something about clotting and pressure. I don’t turn around.
“You keep him breathing,” I say. “That’s the only job you have right now.”
“I’m doing everything I can,” the Doc shouts at me.
“Then do it faster.”
I lean in, watching the warehouse cameras, tracking the team’s progress on the secondary map. Everything’s still clean, and still quiet.
Then the screens flicker.
Once. Twice.
Every feed goes black at the same time.
My hands freeze on the keyboard. I refresh, but there’s nothing. I switch networks. Nothing. The entire camera system has dropped.
“No!”
“Mason.” I speak into the open line. “I’ve lost visual. Do you copy?”
Static answers me.
I try a second channel. Still nothing.
Miles is still unconscious on the floor, and somewhere across the city my boys are moving toward a warehouse I can no longer see. And the girl Miles is willing to die for has just disappeared from the only eyes we had on her.
I sit back slowly, my jaw locked, and stare at the dark screens.
“Get him stable,” I tell the doctor.
“Fuck!” Doc drops to Miles's chest and starts compressions, and I shove Doc and I take over.
“You are not fucking dying on me!” I shout at Miles like he can hear me. “Come on.”