Page 65 of Falcon’s Forever

“Falcon,” he says.

I stop breathing. “What happened?”

Shouting erupts in the background, followed by a crash. It sounds like carnage.

“They hit the women’s house,” Zip tells me.

No. That isn’t right. It can’t be right.

“Cara?” I force the word out.

Zip’s pause lasts less than a second, but it feels like five years.

“We don’t know,” he admits.

Chapter 10

Cara

The first gunshot sounds wrong. For a second my brain refuses to translate it into anything real, it tries to call it a car backfiring beyond the gates, or someone dropped something near the garage. Then the second shot comes, it’s closer, sharper, and every woman in the living room goes still at once. Nobody screams. That's the part that scares me most.

The security phone starts buzzing before I've even processed what I'm hearing.

Security Phone:

ACTIVE THREAT. NORTH PERIMETER BREACH. LOCKDOWN NOW. MOVE TO DESIGNATED ZONES. DO NOT LEAVE HOUSE.

The words hit my bloodstream like ice, and then, right behind the fear, this is what we planned for. We've talked through this. I know what to do and knowing that is the only thing keeping my hands from shaking as badly as they want to.

"Zones," I say, and my voice comes out steadier than I feel.

Maya's already moving toward the living room kit. Sarah grabs the second security phone off the charger. Lena heads for the back hall instead of following everyone into one room, which means she's remembering exactly what we practiced.

"Anyone upstairs?" I ask.

"Emily and Rachel," Sarah says.

Another burst of gunfire erupts. It sounds farther away, but not nearly far enough. Someone screams upstairs. I recognise Emily’s voice and start moving before the sound fades.

Sarah grabs my wrist. “Cara.”

“It’s Emily,” I tell her, pulling toward the stairs.

“I’ll go,” Sarah offers.

“No.” I look back at her. “Stay with the others.”

Her grip tightens around my wrist. “You said nobody does this alone.”

Damn her for using my own rule against me.

“Fine,” I concede. “We go together.”

We take the stairs together while men are shouting outside, radios crackling, engines starting near the garage. Part of me is terrified. Another part recognizes exactly what the sound means. They're here, and I’ve got to remember that we're not facing this by ourselves.

Emily's crouched by her bed with both hands over her ears. Rachel's frozen against the wall.

“Come on,” I urge them. Neither Emily nor Rachel moves.