"We need to get out of here," Venna said, her hand closing hard in mine. The pressure of her fingers was absolute.
She was right, and she was right faster than I'd expected her to be.
A gunshot at night in a dead city isn't a sound. It's an announcement. It travels further than anyone who fires one imagines, and it pulls things toward it that have nothing else in the world to follow. That was the whole reason King had grabbed the bread and gone, and gone quickly, and taken his crew with him. The echo of the shot was still settling between the buildings, thinner now but present, a thread of violence that the dark would follow.
