Sherrie ‘Sharp-Shooter’'s Arc

Chapter 4 of 13

Sherrie stood in the buried vault beneath Echo Warehouse and watched Dr. Shield pack his supplies into a weathered medical bag. The doctor had kept the patient alive for three weeks, pulled him back from the edge twice, and never once asked what the man had done to earn a bullet. Now Shield was leaving. She'd driven out here in the armored car, the one with the reinforced plating and the custom detailing her father used to admire. It sat outside the vault entrance, visible from the street, a message to anyone watching that she was here and whatever happened inside was under her protection. She'd posted two guards at the gate she'd had installed last week, black iron spikes set into concrete pillars that turned the hospital's side entrance into a checkpoint. The guards carried rifles and wore her organization's stamp on their jackets. Shield had walked past them without acknowledgment, straight down to the vault where the patient lay conscious for the first time in days. "I need those guards," Sherrie said. Shield closed the clasp on his bag and looked at her with the same flat expression he'd worn since she forced him to move the patient here. "Then tell me what you're hiding," he said. "Tell me why the Ravens want this man dead badly enough to stake out this building for three days. Tell me what he knows that makes him worth more alive than the supplies I'll lose when you cut me off for asking." She felt the weight of it settle between them. The patient had whispered 'Raven' when he woke, confirming what she'd suspected but hadn't proven. Shield had heard it too. He knew the man was connected to the gang, knew that keeping him alive made Shield an enemy to the Ravens, and he was done taking that risk without understanding why. Sherrie could threaten him, pull the medical supply trucks, force him to comply the way she'd forced the relocation. But Shield had leverage now. He could walk out, tell the Ravens where the patient was, buy his way back into their good graces by giving up the one person who might know why they'd blocked her northern route and burned her driver. She studied the doctor's face and saw no fear in it, just calculation. He'd already decided she needed him more than he needed her. She stepped back from the table and nodded once. "He killed one of their lieutenants," she said. "Three weeks ago, before he showed up bleeding at Barry's door. I don't know why he did it or what he took from them, but whatever it is, they want it back badly enough to burn my shipments until I hand him over." Shield's expression didn't change, but his hand stopped moving toward the door. "And you're keeping him alive because you think he'll tell you what they're protecting," Shield said. Sherrie didn't answer. She didn't need to. Shield set his bag down and walked back to the patient's bedside, checking the IV line he'd just disconnected. The guards would stay.