Only the Hunted Run Read Free Page A

just yanked the alarm; it didn’t go off because of some sort of fire I can’t—”
    â€œWhen can you get—”
    â€œâ€”get to, look, keep an eye on that body count, right, particularly the officers? My numbers are all over the place. I saw two dead, two dead cops, in the Rotunda. Didn’t see any other reporters, or anybody else at all, so I wouldn’t think those two are included in the AP’s count of three. So we may have five cops down.”
    â€œNetworks and the cables are on air now with people calling in from the building, hiding in offices, like that.”
    â€œThe kid I saw, the one that got tagged? He should be outside by now, but he’s catatonic. He’s not going to make it to the cameras. Too bad. He saw the shit firsthand.”
    â€œYou’re sure about the female fatality in the Crypt, though?”
    Sully closed his eyes. The blood, the bubble on the lips, the way she’d looked not at him but in him. He could not let that in, not now, maybe not ever. You could not do this job and let the eyes of dead and dying see into you.
    â€œYeah,” he said, “I’m pretty goddamn sure.”
    â€œOkay. Okay.”
    Sully’s eyes popped open, the thought just coming to him.
    â€œWait, wait, wait. Isn’t Timothy in the building? I saw him upstairs about an hour ago.”
    â€œTimothy is in the press room. He’s on the line with the National Desk. Says they’ve barricaded themselves in there. He’s calling, looking for the leadership.”
    â€œBarricaded?”
    â€œSays they locked the door, moved chairs and couches.”
    â€œThe fuck is he doing in the press room?”
    â€œTimothy has been in the press room for approximately forty-three years.”
    â€œYou’re saying the press corps locked themselves in the press room when the shooting started.”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œTo keep themselves from getting to the news?”
    â€œI don’t think they want the news getting to them.”
    â€œJesus the fucking H.”
    â€œAre you going to get over this?”
    â€œTell Timothy to find his dick—it’s usually right below the belt buckle—and get
out
of the press room and do some gotdamn reporting.”
    â€œNot happening. Turtles in the Galápagos move faster than Timothy. He’s—wait, National sends an all-newsroom message here.” There was a pause. “He saying he’s got the House Speaker on the line.”
    â€œWho is where?” Sully said, startled, sitting up straight.
    â€œAt home in Georgia.”
    â€œThat’s going to help.”
    â€œNobody is in town. Nobody.”
    â€œWhere’s POTUS and Vice POTUS?”
    â€œWest Texas and a secure location, respectively.”
    â€œIs Al Haig in charge?”
    â€œCan you get out?”
    â€œOf what?”
    â€œThe building!”
    â€œWhy, why would I do that?”
    â€œAn outburst of common sense?”
    â€œYou pay me to—”
    â€œThen stay put. Now gimme the rest of what you’ve got. Gimme, gimme the narrative, walk it through.”
    â€œâ€”to, what, okay. Look, I was stalking Evans, the senator lady from back home who approved these drilling rights, like I’m supposed to be doing—
fuck
Clarice, why am I the pinch hitter? I’m walking to this hearing Evans is supposed to be holding, but like three people are in there and, and nobody is up at the stage thing or wherever they sit, right? The dais, is that the word? So I’m going back the other way, going through the Rotunda, thinking I’m in the wrong place, and then there’s this noise, this rumpus from way off, it’s like you’re at the beach and somebody a quarter mile down starts yelling ‘Shark!’ but you can’t hear them for the wind? But something’s obviously going south? This was downstairs at the time. Absolutely downstairs. People start running