Chapter 18

The air inside the dilapidated warehouse filled with the whine of charging capacitors and the rhythmic *thump-thump* of bullets burying themselves into rotting timber. Jake Miller dived behind a rusted turbine, flailing wires whistling inches above his head. "Seriously?" Jake yelled over the din, adjusting his grip on the coil gun. "I didn't realize the paparazzi were this desperate for a shot of me. I haven't even done my hair!" He didn't wait for a reply from the shadowed corners where...