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It wasn’t like the lower floor of the library was plunged into stygian darkness when the power went out. There were no windows, of course, since it was below ground level, but the opening where the escalators came down from the ground floor let in light from above. And since there were a lot of windows up there, it meant that a considerable amount of light slanted down to the lower level.

But the difference was so sudden, so unexpected, that for a couple of seconds everyone down there, including Jake, couldn’t see much of anything. The shock made several people cry out in alarm. A gun blasted somewhere, deafeningly loud, and that caused more screams of terror.

Jake didn’t have to see to do what he did. He twisted sharply and lashed out with his left arm. His forearm struck Natalie’s arm and knocked it to the side. He hoped she wouldn’t jerk the trigger and fire the .32, endangering the innocent hostages.

But he couldn’t stay a prisoner himself and hope to do any good.

Natalie cried out, but the gun in her hand didn’t go off. Jake planted his hand against her shoulder and gave her a hard shove that sent her flying backward. In the next split second, he drove forward, hoping to grab Matthias Foster again and maybe get the upper hand once more.

Foster was already gone, though, darting away into the shadows. Jake’s hurried gaze couldn’t find him. More shots roared. Muzzle flame split the gloom. Shrieks of pain and fear ripped the air.

Somewhere, Foster shouted, “Kill Rivers! Kill him!”

Instinct sent Jake diving to the floor. A bullet whistled somewhere above him but didn’t come close. He came up on hands and knees, scrambled behind one of the love seats, and heard a slug thud into it. Another lunge carried him into the stacks, those rows and rows of shelves full of old volumes and bound periodicals. The shadows really were thick in those narrow aisles. With each step he took, it grew darker around him.

He didn’t mind that. Darkness was his friend right now.

As he ran, he trailed the fingers of his left hand along the shelves beside him. When he came to an opening, he ducked into it. It was a good thing he did, because a second later, Foster or one of his men reached the spot where Jake had disappeared into the stacks and emptied a magazine of 9mm rounds along that aisle.

By then, Jake was two aisles over, moving as silently as possible. He glided along that path for a moment, found another of the cross aisles, and slipped into it.

“Damn it!” Foster yelled. “Use your phone lights! Get in there and find him!”

Jake stayed on the move, weaving his way through the stacks toward the back of the lower level. The wheels of his brain turned over rapidly. He had already figured out that was the direction he needed to go. The stairwell was back there. If he could reach it, he could head up and lose himself somewhere on the other floors of the library. Foster didn’t have enough people to hunt him down.
Once he had accomplished that, he could start planning his counterattack.

- Chapter 33