Hunger

being some superstrong mutant. In fact, even as he pushed against the door, he was wondering if there wasn’t an electronic control of some sort on the door. Wondering where the control panel might be. Wondering whether he could cut a wire, or solder another wire, and open the door. Wondering whether it might be computer-controlled, in which case it would be a question of hacking.
    Those thoughts engaged Jack’s mind. And that gave Jack pleasure.
    Pushing on a steel door like some kind of ox? That was stupid. It was what stupid people did. And Jack was not stupid.
    “Keep at it, Jack,” Caine encouraged him. “It’s starting to give.”
    Jack heard Diana saying to Drake, “I told you he was strong. And you thought you’d just go and pick him up and bring him to Coates? Hah.”
    The door would give way in another few seconds, Jack could feel it.
    “When it goes, Jack, you need to drop to the floor,” Caine said.
    Jack would have asked why, but the exertion was popping the veins in his neck, squeezing his lungs, bulging his eyes, and generally making it hard to imagine engaging in conversation.
    “Soon as it goes, Jack, drop to the floor,” Caine reiterated. “Someone in there might start shooting.”
    What? Shooting?
    Jack lessened his effort.
    “Don’t slack off,” Drake warned. “We’ll take care of whoever is on the other side.”
    Jack heard the sound of a gun being cocked. And a low, mean laugh from Drake.
    He wedged his feet tight. One more big push. And drop.
    Suddenly he was scared. Getting shot at was not part of the deal.
    He shoved hard. All his might.
    The door collapsed suddenly, but not the way Jack had expected. It snapped at the top hinge and the deadbolt broke. The door was still in the doorway, bent at an angle but held in place by one hinge. Another push and it would swing in.
    The sound of the gun was shocking.
    Jack dropped to the floor. He covered his head, covered his ears.
    He yelled, “Don’t kill me, don’t kill me!” but no one could possibly have heard because now the firing was coming from both sides. Whoever was in the control room was firing short bursts through the gaps. BlamBlamBlam!
    Drake was firing back in rapid-fire single rounds.
    Bullets pinged off the steel and ricocheted in the hallway.
    Drake yelled, Caine yelled, Jack yelled, and from beyond the doorway a girl’s voice was screaming in rage and fear.
    Then Caine struck. He hit the weakened door with a blast of his own.
    The steel door exploded inward.
    It skidded across the floor beyond and knocked the legs out from under a girl who kept firing as she fell, spraying automatic weapons fire wildly in the air.
    Jack hugged the ground, sobbing, “Don’t kill me!” Drake leaped over him, gun in one hand, whip hand unfurled.
    Lying on his side, Jack saw a crazy tableau, the girl, unable to move, her legs twisted at impossible angles but bringing the still-firing gun around toward Drake.
    Drake’s whip hand snapping.
    The girl pointed her gun straight at Drake’s chest.
    Click.
    Empty.
    Drake’s whip connected.
    A scream of pain.
    Another.
    “Stop it!” Diana cried.
    Caine, accidentally kicking Jack’s head as he rushed into the room.
    Again, the lash of Drake’s whip, and now he was yelling in wild glee, crowing and cursing.
    Jack crawled forward, blinded by tears. He knew the girl. He knew her. Brittney. She’d been in history with him. Three rows back.
    Again Drake struck.
    The empty gun fell from Brittney’s hand.
    She was cut, bleeding, legs shattered from the impact of the door, her face a mess of tears and blood and Diana screaming abuse at Drake and Caine saying nothing to stop the psychopath and Jack wanting to cry, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” but unable to find the words.
    Diana reached Drake and grabbed his whip hand at the shoulder. “Enough, you sick piece of—”
    Drake spun around, face-to-face with Diana. He bared his teeth and roared at her, roared like an animal, spit flying.
    “She’s right: enough,” Caine said at last.
    “Keep your girlfriend out of my face!” Drake bellowed at Caine.
    Caine looked coldly at Drake. “I let you have your fun. We’re not here for your entertainment.”
    Jack was stunned. He was unable to tear his eyes away from Brittney. She moaned, tried to move, then slumped to the floor. Unconscious or dead. Jack didn’t know which.
    She’d been in his class.
    He knew her.
    “Get to work, Jack,” Caine said.
    Diana turned bloodshot eyes on