Chapter Eleven

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I heard the rear window shatter. I felt pain shoot up my right arm. I smelled the woozying stench of blood. I looked down at my left arm and saw dark blood spreading across my navy dress. The shock made me scream.

"Aunt Abby," I said, the pain growing, "is there a first aid kit in here?"

Everyone had looked at me when the bullet came and I had screamed, but then it clicked.

Another bullet was fired and we dove to the ground. We were going to have a lot of fun explaining to the limousine rental what happened.

Macey shined a flashlight on the hole and Aunt Abby examined my arm. "You're lucky this time. There's an exit wound."

I didn't feel lucky. Luck would mean that the shooter would have missed his target.

Grant risked it and looked out the back window and ducked back down. "Hey, Townsend," he called out, "there's a car following us if you haven't noticed already."

"I see it," he said gruffly. He swerved in between several cars. We swayed side to side, my bad arm hitting the seat. I gasped in pain.

Aunt Abby pulled out a bottle of alcohol and poured it on my arm. I stifled a scream.

Zach helped hold me still. "Deep breaths," he whispered. The liquid seemed to sear into my shoulder.

Abby sighed. " I can't stitch the hole up in a moving car. Tight bandages will have to do until then."

Another shot was fired, but flew above the car. We snapped back into the situation.

"We still have a tail," she finished.

Townsend calmly passed a gun to Zach. "This the the best option that we have because of the upcoming highway traffic. Just shoot their windshield out." Normally, he would of given Aunt Abby the gun. It was probably one of the most fatherly things he had ever said or done to Zach. Townsend's the kind of spy that considers saving the world "family time."

Zach turned around in his seat and took aim. The rear window of our car was already shattered, so he fired.

One, two, three, four, five. The tail car swerved off the road and into a ditch.

We were on the road leading to the hotel now. No other cars were following us.

Townsend parked in the lot and we entered the hotel. I dashed up the stairs, high heels and all. (Remind me to ditch the torture shoes next time.) my left arm hung limply at my side as I fumbled with the key card. Macey and Bex came up behind me. The door unlocked and I screamed.

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