Free Zhukov's Dogs by Amanda Cyr

behind. I pulled the pistol from my belt, flicked the safety off again and fired at the suit’s feet. He fell over with a wail, and I jumped out of hiding so I could cripple the suit behind him with a bullet to the leg. Before either could recover, I rushed from behind the car and snatched their guns away.
    “Coast is clear,” I called, holding one of the large guns up like it was a trophy.
    As Val stepped into the street and made his way toward the bridge, Anya sat up in the back seat and smiled brightly at me. Her face suddenly fell as an engine revved behind me. The car at the opposite end of the bridge surged to life and headed straight for us. I dropped the guns and pulled the door to the crashed car open.
    “Move! Get out now,” I urged.
    “Tibbs,” she said, pointing to the large boy at the steering wheel. His head was hung from sight, but I recognized the puffy coat. I looked back to Anya and reached to grab her hand. She resisted when I tried to pull her from the car. “We can’t just leave him!”
    I looked over my shoulder at the car speeding straight at us. Anya and Tibbs weren’t important anymore. I had to save myself. As I stepped back from the vehicle, someone ran past in a blur.
    “Val!” Anya screamed, latching onto my jacket and burying her face in it.
    Val ran right toward the car, no fear in his eyes and no mind to his injury. He grabbed one of the suits off the road and jerked him to his feet. Ignoring the man’s loud protest, Val hauled him along straight toward the car. They were both going to be struck. I pressed my hand against Anya’s head to keep her from turning to look. Even if I couldn’t pull my eyes away from the scene, she didn’t need to see her brother get killed.
    Five feet short of the speeding vehicle, Val shoved his hostage forward and leapt toward it. There was something surreal about it all—watching the car swerve as it struck the suit and watching Val slide over the roof. The vehicle crashed into the opposite side of the bridge as Val hit the ground.
    My jaw hung open. I forgot about Anya weeping against me and Tibbs unconscious at the steering wheel. How could I focus on anything after that? It was only when Val got to his feet and straightened his coat that the world around me fell back into perspective.
    “Anya… Anya he’s okay. Look,” I said.
    Anya let go of my jacket and leaned to look around me. Laughing, she shoved me out of her way and scrambled from the car. She ran across the bridge and threw her arms around Val so violently I feared she’d topple him over. Val cringed, and as soon as Anya realized he’d been injured, she began to criticize him for him for behaving recklessly.
    I tuned out the bickering siblings and walked over to lean against the dented trunk of the car. My body and mind were easing out of active combat mode, a mild headache accompanying the fading rush of adrenaline. I took a deep breath and put my hands behind my head as I looked up at the sky.
    Ahh, that’s right. No sky
, I thought with a scowl aimed at the dark ceiling high overhead. I never imagined one day I’d be bitter about not being able to see the sky. Not even an hour in the city, and I already hated it.
    When the bickering to my right ceased, I allowed myself to listen to their conversation. “Did you guys get it?” Val asked.
    “Yup,” Anya said, proudly. She hurried back to the car and reached into the floorboards of the backseat to pull out a small box wrapped in brown paper and tied with twine. It was then I noticed the unconscious suit in the backseat she had to climb over. I was far more interested in the box she held out to Val, though. He looked thrilled, a rare expression which fit him much better than the cold one he seemed so fond of.
    Val took the box from her carefully and reached behind him, only to pull a very familiar looking bag in front of him. My hand shot up to my shoulder in search of the strap where my bag should have been resting. How the