He needed time. Just a second or two.

Another bright flash of lightning drew Lou’s attention to the balcony where raindrops continued pelting the stone floor.

“Slide the book over to me,” Burke said, motioning with his gun hand. Clearly, he did not want Lou even within arm’s reach.

Lou swallowed hard.

One chance … I have one chance.… What does it feel like to be shot?

He bent down and slid the book on the carpeted floor, but angled it in such a way that it slid underneath the bed.

Burke’s expression remained pure ice, but his eyes were daggers.

“That’s going to cost you,” he said.

Keeping his gaze locked on Lou, he used his foot to feel under the bed. The Neighbors had Humphrey Miller, and Burke had been able to make him hand over Lou. The notebook was insurance in case Miller suddenly refused to cooperate anymore … or died.

Lou tensed. He was a sprinter on the blocks, and the starter’s pistol was about to go off.

The Neighbors had probably given up on Kazimi’s antibiotic approach, and their scientists had not been able to keep up with the mutations of the Doomsday Germ. They were getting desperate. The good news was it now appeared Humphrey well might have been correct in his bacteriophage theory. The bad news was that Lou was essentially finished. His only hope—an incredibly thin one—would involve leaving the notebook behind.

Come on and look away. Look … away.

Lou’s eyes were fixed on the man set to kill him.

Look down. Now, dammit!… Now!

Burke extended his foot another inch under the bed frame. Then a wisp of smile bowed on his cruel mouth. He had located the notebook.

Bending at the knees, Burke kept his eyes on Lou, and the gun fixed on his chest.

Get ready …

Burke looked away for just two seconds, long enough to dip his shoulder and reach underneath the bed with his hand. When he glanced up again, Lou was already in motion. In the instant before he moved, Lou flashed on the parents rushing their kids out of the swimming pool. He took two giant steps, pushing past the curtain and onto the balcony. From behind him came two silenced shots—like champagne corks popping. He sensed bullets whizzing past his head. One might have shattered the sliders.

This was it.

There was no time for hesitation, no time to calculate … or to direct his leap. Barefooted, Lou swung one foot up onto the railing, and in a fluid motion, pushed off with all his strength.

Live or die.

He was six stories above the pool and falling fast. The scene rushing up from below was crystal clear. Indelible. No kids. Air being forced from his lungs. Unable to breathe in.