Free Hit List by Jack Heath Page A

search, Detective Smith?” Benjamin asked.
    “Detective Wright,” the cop corrected. “And don’t worry, it’s under control.”
    Detective Damien Wright. No way. This was the same guy who’d caught Ash five months ago at Hammond Buckland’s headquarters. Benjamin had been listening as Wright interrogated her and
handcuffed her to a piece of furniture – and as Ash escaped while he was out of the room.
    Wright hadn’t been able to track her down; she had given him a fake surname when he questioned her. But if he found out she was here, she and Benjamin were both in deep trouble.
    But how can I warn her? he wondered. I can’t use the radio while he’s watching me. And if she’s in the vault already, the signal won’t get through the walls.
    The detective must have seen the anxiety on Benjamin’s face. “All right,” he said, standing up. “I’ll go see if they’ve found any sign of your
grandad.”
    “No!” Benjamin said. “I...uh...”
    Think! he told himself. Come on!
    “Don’t just leave me here,” he said. “On my own, I mean.”
    Wright sighed. “You can’t come with me, kid. It’s a crime scene.” He stepped out of the van, leaving the door open. “Don’t go anywhere,” he said.
    As soon as Wright was out of earshot, Benjamin grabbed his radio. “Ash, come in,” he whispered. “Ash!”
    There was no answer.
    Ash picked up the sheet and reread the words.
    Help me, 37.4215, -122.0855, Alice B.
    What had she stumbled across? A prank? A test? A postmodern poem? Or a real-life distress call from someone who needed rescuing?
    And then she no longer had time to think about it. There was a thumping on the vault door, and a voice, shouting, “Mr. Fields? Are you in there?”
    Ash gasped. She’d assumed the paramedics had left. She ran behind a shelf, stuffing the paper into her pocket.
    “Why would he be in there?” one of them asked.
    “Don’t know. But he’s nowhere else in the library, so we have to check.”
    “I’ll call the cops – maybe they’ll be able to get the combination.”
    Scanning the area for a hiding place, Ash cursed Benjamin for his acting skills. If he hadn’t been so convincing, the paramedics would have gone home by now, instead of standing outside an
unlocked door, wondering about the combination. This would be funny, she thought, if it weren’t so terrifying.
    “Mr. Fields!”
    “I don’t think he’s in there.”
    “If he’s trapped, he might not be able to respond. He might not even be able to hear us through this goddamn—”
    Clank. The door swung ajar, just a little. One of the paramedics must have touched the release button. Ash scuttled back towards it, ducking behind the carbon-steel frame. Hopefully the
paramedics would be looking straight ahead at the shelves when they entered.
    “What do you know – it’s not even locked!”
    The door was pulled all the way open, and the two paramedics ran in, one of them yelling, “Mr. Fields, can you hear me?”
    Ash tiptoed sideways towards the door, quickly, quietly, willing them not to turn around. Almost there...
    The paramedics were walking down an aisle, heads turning left and right. “I don’t see him,” one was saying.
    Ash was almost there. She didn’t take her eyes off the paramedics. Come on, she thought. Look harder. Search every aisle thoroughly.
    She was three steps away. Two. One.
    She was out! She turned to leave—
    And crashed into a police officer. She yelped.
    “Whoa,” the officer said. “What are—”
    Their gazes locked. Ash’s eyes widened.
    “You!” Detective Wright roared.
    Ash heard the paramedics turn towards the noise. She reached back without looking, pushed the door closed, and spun one of the dials to lock it. Then she charged at Wright, who was reaching for the service revolver in his hip holster.
    He was taller and heavier than her – she had no hope of knocking him down with this wild charge. So upon impact she wrapped her arms around him like he was