Sleeper Cell Super Boxset by Roger Hayden, James Hunt Page B

rushed out, he pulled the agent with him. Before the door closed behind them, Diaz collapsed to the ground, and Dylan along with him.
    “Shit!” Diaz rolled on the ground, clutching his left shoulder, blood oozing out from between his fingers. Cooper rushed to his side, helping him up, while Dylan pulled a dumpster over to block the door. When Dylan offered a hand, Diaz slapped it away. 
    “We need to get him to a hospital,” Dylan said.
    “We don’t know if the power’s out to the whole city or not,” Cooper replied. “And the first thing we need to do is find a car.”
    Dylan scoured the yard, checking door handles and windows, anything and everything, but the amount of cars in the back was slim. “I can’t—” He turned in circles, looking for an escape, looking for the right words to finish. “There isn’t anything here!”
    Cooper and Diaz hobbled together in a stumble, with Cooper trying to keep pressure on the back of Diaz’s shoulder. The door pounded against the dumpster, quickly followed by bullets, as the terrorists tried to push their way through. Cooper reached into her pocket and pulled out a ring. She tossed it to Dylan. “Slam that against the window. It’ll shatter like ice.”
    Dylan placed it on his finger and gave the driver-side window of a beige Buick a forceful tap. The car window shattered just like she said, and Dylan quickly unlocked the other doors. Cooper helped Diaz into the backseat then jumped in the passenger seat while Dylan cracked open the panel underneath the car and fiddled with the wires.
    “Done this before, have we?” Cooper asked. “You really are just the shining example of an upstanding citizen, aren’t you?”
    A spark flickered as Dylan combined two exposed wires, and the engine turned over. More gunfire blasts peppered the door, and the dumpster almost shook free. “C’mon, c’mon.” The engine finally cranked to life, and Dylan slammed the shifter into drive. He pressed the accelerator to the floor and turned the steering wheel sharply, tires spinning and screeching against the pavement as the dumpster broke free and the terrorists poured out of the back of the station.
    The rear window shattered, and all three of them felt the vibrations from the thud of each bullet that impacted the Buick’s trunk. When Dylan made an immediate left, the firing finally stopped, and all of them raised their heads, looking back, waiting to see if anyone would follow them.
    “Everyone all right?” Dylan asked.
    Cooper checked herself then nodded and examined Diaz lying flat on his back, still clutching his shoulder. Diaz had broken out in a cold sweat and was shaking. When Cooper felt his forehead, she quickly checked the glove compartment and side pockets on the doors. “He’s burning up. We need to get him to a hospital. Now.” She found a half-drunk bottle of water and climbed back between the seats. She lifted Diaz’s head up and then rested it on her lap, feeding him the water to help rehydrate.
    “Boston General is just a few blocks away,” Dylan replied. “If it’s still there,” he muttered under his breath. The explosions had caused a few of the store owners, up early to begin their day for the weekend crowd, to come out onto the streets, but other than that and a few delivery trucks, the rest of the city was still sleeping, although he didn’t think it would be for long, considering the loud disruptions that no doubt rocked the rest of the city.
    The speedometer on the Buick tipped seventy, and Dylan barely stopped to check the streets at stop signs and lights, blowing past them in a blur. Cooper kicked the back of his seat. “Hey, the hospital won’t do us any good if you kill us before we get there.”
    Dylan glanced down at his speed. He hadn’t realized how fast he was going. “Sorry.” He eased off the accelerator. He found that his heart was still racing, but it felt less intense. Either he was calming down, or he was getting used to the