Free Dead Harvest by Chris F. Holm Page B

Then you go out the window and down the fire escape. Don't stop for anything , you hear me?"
      "Won't they be watching for us?" Anders said to me.
      "Not if I do my job."
      "No!" Kate shook her head. "We're not going to just leave you here!"
      "Kate, there isn't any other choice. My leg's shot – I ain't going anywhere. And without a diversion, you wouldn't make it five steps."
      In the other room, the front door thudded. The jamb held, but it wouldn't for long. We were running out of time. Kate looked at me a moment, her eyes red and streaming from the gas, and then she leaned toward me, planting a kiss on my cheek. "Be careful, OK?"
      I smiled. "You just worry about staying alive, all right? Once you're safe, I'll follow, I swear. There's a park at the corner of Ninth and Twenty-eighth – do you know it?" She nodded. "Good – I'll meet you there. And Anders?"
      "Yeah?"
      "You keep her safe."
      The front door splintered inward with a sickening crack. It was time. I closed my eyes and concentrated, my lips moving in a silent prayer that this would work. Swapping bodies takes strength, strength and focus, and the shape I was in, both were in short supply. Not to mention the fact that possessing the living is not without its price. Still, my only alternatives were capture and death. If I were captured before I did my thing, then they'd get Kate, and she was as good as damned. As for death? Just because in my case it isn't permanent doesn't make it any more of a picnic. If ever I were gonna dig deep, now was the time.
      They stormed the apartment. From my hiding place in the bedroom, I touched each of them in turn. The rookie, all fear and nerves – no use to me. The jaded old-timer, just looking to get through this so he could get back to banging his wife's sister. Ditto with him. The commanding officer who knows deep down he's thought of as an officious prick. Nope. But the one who was first through the door? Quiet. Competent. The one they all trusted. He was exactly what I was looking for.
      I threw my mind at him with all I had. The Friedlander body convulsed around me as I struggled to pull away. Every muscle clenched as one. Tendons snapped like rubber bands. I shrieked in agony, but still I pressed on. My nose erupted in a torrent of blood, and for a fleeting moment everything went red as a vessel in my eye burst under the strain. Then, suddenly, the pain evaporated, and all went dark.
      Friedlander was gone.
      My mind slammed into the cop's like a freight train. He buckled, but kept his feet. His stomach clenched, threatened to purge. By force of will, I kept it down.
      I wheeled around. Just the three of them inside with me, armored up like they were heading off to war. A lot of effort for such a little girl. My earpiece crackled with static and shouted commands, but I ignored it. Instead I raised my firearm, a mean-looking fully automatic assault rifle that looked to weigh about a ton. This guy handled like a dream, his muscle memory doing all the work. He let out a panicked wail inside my head as I pulled the trigger, three quick bursts. Just like that, the advance team went down. My guy had decent aim – one of 'em took a stray bullet in the shoulder, but the rest hit them square in the breadbasket. If the vests had done their jobs, breathing was gonna hurt like hell for a while, but all three ought to live.
      I approached the open doorway to the hall. A thousand shouted questions in my ear. I considered yanking the earpiece, but then I thought better of it. The better to hear you with, my dear.
      A rustling to my right. One of my teammates was scrambling to get to his knees, his gas mask clouded with condensation from his labored breathing. His rifle lay useless halfway across the room. I watched him as he groped for the piece strapped to his ankle. Not on my watch. I cracked him hard in the face with the butt of my gun, and he fell limp to the floor.
      I took a