Chapter 33

The first shots were deadly. The Kenyan troops dedicated to protecting Peyton, Jonas, and their team fell in waves as the invading soldiers advanced. In seconds, half of Colonel Magoro’s men were dead. Bullets ripped through the white tent complex. Return fire shredded the thatched-roof huts of the village.

“Run!” Magoro yelled. “Get to the trucks and go!”

But instead of running away from the tent complex, Peyton ran back into it, to the biocontainment room where the three survivors from the Kenyan village were looking on with fear. She opened the room and pointed away from the camp.

“Go. Hide, like before. Don’t come out until one of us comes for you.”

Peyton felt a hand clamp around her bicep. She turned to see Jonas, panic in his eyes. “Peyton, we need to go.”

Together, they ran toward the three Toyota SUVs parked on the outskirts of the camp. Hannah was ahead of them, already halfway there. She ran in the open, gunfire sounding all around her. Soft pops from the attackers’ suppressed weapons interrupted the automatic rifle reports from Magoro’s men. Bullets raked across the first two SUVs, carving a line of holes in their sides and shattering windows.

“Make for the last one!” Jonas called out.

Peyton put her head down and ran for her life. Her heart pounded in her chest, a bass drum out of tune with the symphony of death the rifles played.

A scream ahead—a woman’s voice. Peyton looked up in time to see Hannah fall. Blood instantly flowed from the young physician. Peyton was at her side in seconds, kneeling, inspecting the gunshot wound in her shoulder. Tears filled Hannah’s eyes, but she was already pushing back up, her teeth gritted. Peyton wrapped an arm around her, and they rushed to the SUV, where Jonas held the back door open.

He slammed it shut when they were inside and yelled, “Stay down!”

He got in the driver’s seat, cranked the SUV, and floored it.

An explosion rocked the tent complex, sending white canvas and red dirt into the air. Remnants of the blast rained down on the SUV like hail.

Jonas was making for the main road away from the village, pushing the vehicle to its limits. It stormed along the rutted road, bouncing, each violent movement bringing a scream from Hannah. Peyton wrapped one arm around her neck, the other around her side, and pulled her student on top of her, trying to cushion her. Their faces were together now, and Peyton could feel Hannah’s tears flowing down her own face, the salty taste touching her lips. Above them, a bullet shattered the back window, spraying tiny bits of glass. Peyton covered Hannah’s face with her hands.

More bullets struck the side of the SUV, a few at first, then a full barrage.

“Hang on!” Jonas yelled.