Maki got off. She did it slowly, which was the point.
The dock was empty. Jacob's fake inspection order was still taped inside the window of the van, and the plates were still wrong in the right way, and Isabelle had the engine running and the side door open before we cleared the loading bay.
I made it three steps onto the ramp and then the hook pulled again, one hard wrench that felt like a hand closing around my spine from the inside, and I went down.
"Got him." Raphael's arms went under me and the world tipped and I was moving without moving, and somewhere above my head Emi was saying numbers and Skylar was saying my name without the nickname attached, which is how I knew it was actually bad.
The van door slammed.
"Go," Isabelle said, and then, louder, and this is the part that surprised me. "Go, Malachi. Now."
Malachi drove. I did not know Malachi could drive.
