Chapter 9 - The Air Coming Through the Vents
A sharp hiss came from above us.
Every passenger looked up.
White vapor curled from the ceiling vents.
Harris struck the door controls.
Nothing happened.
He tried again.
“Locked out,” he said.
The vapor thickened.
Claire pulled her coat over her mouth. “What is that?”
I released Vince and shoved him toward the floor.
“Everyone cover your face.”
Passengers raised sleeves, scarves, and coats.
Ranger sneezed once, then lowered his head.
I grabbed the loose vent grille and pressed my hand near the airflow. The vapor had a faint sweet chemical smell.
Not smoke.
A sedative aerosol was possible, though using it inside a public bus risked killing anyone with respiratory problems.
That told me our lives had already been written off.
Cal stared at the scanner.
“They didn’t tell us about gas.”
Vince dragged himself upright, favoring his injured leg.
“They don’t tell us anything.”
Mason began pounding the rear exit doors.
They stayed shut.
Outside, four figures in dark tactical uniforms moved into position around the bus. No visible department markings. Faces hidden behind black masks. One stood beside the driver’s window holding the electronic access tool.
Claire swayed.
I caught her elbow.
“Stay awake.”
“I’m trying.”
“Where is the ventilation intake?”
Harris pointed above the front windshield. “Exterior roof unit.”
“Can you shut it down?”
“Controls are frozen.”
The electronic lockout had taken more than the doors.
I looked at the ceiling emergency hatches.
Too high for most passengers, but reachable from the seats.
“You,” I said to the teenage boy who had thrown the memory card. “Stand on that seat. Open the roof hatch.”
He nodded despite shaking.
Another passenger helped him climb.
Mason rushed forward.
“I’ll do it.”
I watched him carefully.
“Why?”
“Because I don’t want to die for this.”
Vince glared at him. “Coward.”
Mason turned. “They just gassed us.”
“They’re controlling the scene.”
“They’re cleaning it.”
The teenager pulled the red emergency handle.
The hatch did not move.
“Locked,” he coughed.
Mason climbed beside him and drove his boot against the panel. It flexed but held.
Cal ripped the scanner from his belt and shouted into it.
“Turn off the gas!”
Only static answered.
He tried again.
“This is Dwyer. We have the drive. Shut it down.”
A voice finally responded.
“Place the drive at the front door.”
Claire held it tighter.
Cal looked at her.
“If we give it to them, they stop.”
“No,” I said. “They don’t.”
He knew I was right.
Vince sat against a seat, rubbing his thigh.
“They need proof it’s destroyed.”
“Then why lock you inside?” I asked.
His eyes shifted away.
The answer was simple.
They did not need him outside.
Harris pulled a small emergency hammer from beneath the console and struck the side window. The first hit left a white star in the glass. The second widened it.
Outside, one masked officer raised a launcher.
I moved.
The projectile punched through the already fractured window and embedded in the opposite wall with a soft thud.
A wire trailed behind it.
Electrical charge snapped through the metal frame.
Harris convulsed and fell forward over the steering wheel.
The bus horn blared.
The vehicle began rolling.
No one was controlling it.
Ahead, the roadblock vehicles filled the intersection.
I lunged over the driver’s partition, grabbed the wheel, and pulled the bus away from the nearest SUV.
The tires climbed the curb.
Passengers screamed.
The front corner of the bus scraped a streetlight, showering sparks along the window.
The impact tore open part of the damaged side glass, allowing freezing air to rush inside.
The vapor began thinning.
But Harris did not move.
Claire crawled toward him and checked his neck.
“He has a pulse.”
“Keep him breathing.”
I held the wheel with one hand and reached for the brake with my boot.
The bus stopped half on the sidewalk.
Outside, the masked team repositioned.
One officer lifted his radio.
The scanner in Cal’s hand crackled.
“Mercer has control of the vehicle.”
A new voice responded.
A woman’s voice.
Cal looked at me.
So did Claire.
I recognized it.
I had not heard that voice in eleven years, but I knew exactly who it belonged to.
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“Then bring Noah Mercer to me alive,” the woman ordered.
📖 Discover why the woman commanding the corrupt team knows Noah personally—and what happened between them eleven years earlier in CHAPTER 10. 👇
