Distressed: Enemy Of The State- Book 1 by James Hunt

collided with another body, and both fired randomly into the dark. Dylan jumped at the sound of the gunshot, but the moan came from someone else.
    Finally, Dylan found the door handle to the stairwell, and the moment his hand touched the metal, the lights flashed on. At least three of the guards were dead, the rest with wounds ranging from severed legs and arms to shrapnel wounds. Dylan looked down to the terrorists scrambling forward, and before they could get to him, he rushed up the stairs.
    Kasaika and the rest of his men shouted and screamed, firing blindly at Dylan as he climbed the steps two at a time. When he had his hand on the door handle to the floor above, he heard the quick thump of Kasaika’s footsteps getting closer.
    Dylan ducked after a series of shots echoed up the stairs, and he quickly opened and shut the door behind him, sealing Kasaika and his men inside, unable to get out, as Dylan had the only key card. They pounded on the door, and Dylan took a moment to catch his breath. His breakfast tried to evacuate, but he managed to keep it down. He wiped the snot from his nose and rushed back down to the utility room where they’d entered.
    The lights and sirens continued to flash, and when Dylan made it to the utility room, a unit of guards turned the corner. The reaction between sighting him and the gunfire was nearly instantaneous. Bullets whizzed by, and without even thinking about the repercussions, Dylan fired back, shooting one of the guards through the chest.
    All three guards had assault rifles, but Dylan couldn’t afford to turn back. If he was caught, then his son’s life would be over. It didn’t matter if Cooper would be able to clear him of whatever charges they threw at him or what they’d be able to get out of Kasaika and his men in terms of a confession. The moment Perry found out what Dylan had done, Sean would be dead, unless he had something to bargain for, something he needed, like the computer chips in the bag at Dylan’s side.
    Dylan fired into the cluster of guards, making a final sprint toward the door while he did. He balanced firing and running awkwardly, the gun nearly falling to the ground with each haphazard shot flung in the guards’ direction. He reached for the handle, and a hot sting pierced the upper left of his body, close to his neck, and he stumbled a few steps. He managed to keep the gun in his hand but fumbled with the key card. He leaned against the wall, using it to help stabilize himself.
    Blood spurted from the cloth of Dylan’s shirt, and he felt his shoulder go numb. The gun in his hand grew heavy, and he finally managed to slide the card down the middle of the strip. He yanked it open and collapsed inside.
    The pistol skidded across the floor, and Dylan crawled to the air duct. All he had to do was make it out of the facility. The cars were still waiting on the other end of the forest that they’d snuck through. He dumped one of the large server pillars across the entrance to the door, blocking the guards from trying to enter, or at least trying to enter easily.
    Dylan lifted himself into the vent and crawled as fast as he could, elbows, knees, the top of his head all banging against the metal and concrete. Halfway through he no longer had the use of his arm and had to make the rest of the journey without it.
    Throughout the crawl, he thought he could hear the shouts of men and gunfire. He constantly checked behind him, just waiting to see the barrel of a rifle ready to shoot him down. The moment he’d shot that guard, he had become a wanted fugitive and terrorist of the United States of America.
    The tunnels finally opened up to where Dylan pushed himself to his feet and stumbled through the light stream of water running along the tunnel’s floor. A small circle of light was ahead, and Dylan felt a burst of energy surge through him at the sight. He broke out into a jog, his head ducked and back hunched from the small tunnel.
    Dylan squinted his eyes