Marisa felt a sudden sense of vertigo, half of her vision showing Campbell’s burst of speed as he zoomed down the hall, chasing the gangsters up the stairs. Camilla dove toward them at the same time, catching the Tì Xū Dāo just as they reached the landing, pinning them between the two nulis.
The thug in the back was short, with a scar on the side of his face that cut off the top of his ear; Campbell shot him with a stun gun, and he fell back down the stairs, twitching as he went. Camilla did the same to the gangster in front—a woman with the right half of her head shaved. She was already on the landing when she fell, so she didn’t roll away, but Sahara jumped down and kicked the gun out of her hand, using only the rubber sole of her shoe so the current from the stun gun didn’t affect her. The man in the middle, more than six feet tall but with a boyish face, raised his gun and fired, but Camilla moved smoothly in front of the barrel and caught the bullet perfectly, falling to the stairs in a smoking pile.
Campbell shot a blob of pink foam at the gun, swallowing both the gun and the hand in a dense blob of goo, swelling and hardening in seconds. He tried to fire again, but the goo held his finger and the trigger firmly in place, stiff and immovable, so instead he swung the useless blob like a club. Sahara countered by catching the arm and levering it backward, popping the shoulder out of joint with an audible crack.
The tall man screamed and backed away, and Sahara turned to face the woman, now recovering from the stun gun. The woman pummeled Sahara with a tight, fast flurry of punches, and Sahara parried each one almost faster than Marisa could follow. The woman swung a wide roundhouse kick at Sahara’s midsection, forcing her to change her stance to block it, and the woman used the opening to launch a devastating chop at Sahara’s head, with no way for her to dodge in time. Campbell zoomed in and knocked the punch aside at the last second.
The woman faltered, surprised, and Sahara rammed her elbow into the side of the gangster’s head, dropping her again to the floor. The tall man came back into the fray, favoring his wounded shoulder but showering Sahara with kicks so powerful it was all she could do to block them with her forearms, grunting in pain at each impact. She fell away from the onslaught, backing up until she was pressed up against the metal railing with nowhere to go. She blocked two more fierce kicks, then ducked away from the next one, dropping almost to the floor; the move left her exposed, but the tall man’s kick had too much momentum, passing through the air where Sahara had just been and slamming into the railing instead.
Marisa heard the ankle snap. The man screamed, and Sahara lashed out with a kick of her own, knocking his other leg out from under him. The tall man toppled, and Sahara stood up with a grim smile.
“Now who’s trapped?”
The door at the top of the stairs rattled, and the girls turned toward it wearily, bracing themselves for another attack. Sahara raised her fists, and the door swung open.
Omar stepped out, his gun raised. “You shouldn’t be here.”
Marisa yelped and ducked, but he fired over their heads, hitting the scar-faced gangster who’d crept up behind them. The gangster fell, dropping his rail gun, and Sahara fell into another fighting stance, ready to face Omar bare-handed.
Marisa clenched her fist. “You gonna kill us, you fracking bastard?”
“I just saved your lives,” he said fiercely. “I saw you on the security cameras and came as fast as I could.”
“You’re part of this!” Marisa shouted. “You’re helping them! Anja was your friend!”
“Anja wasn’t supposed to take it,” said Omar. “Neither was Franca—and Tì Xū Dāo was definitely not supposed to get involved.”
“But everyone else can go screw themselves?” asked Sahara. “This is evil, and you know it.”
“My father will be pissed when this all goes down,” said Omar, not bothering to defend himself, “but I’ve seen enough. It’s time to end this.”
“How do you expect us to trust anything you say?” Marisa demanded. “You supported this—there’s no reason for us to believe you’ve changed your mind now.”
“Look around you,” said Omar. “I supported this because it was a good business decision. Can you imagine what we could do if we got this into Ganika? Our control code in millions of heads, all over the world. Power and money become almost meaningless at that point—we’d control enough of the world to make no difference. But that’s impossible now. We could have weathered the gang war, but not this zombie thing, whatever the hell glitch is turning them all into killers. Not only are we not getting into Ganika, but Ganika might take a huge hit—no one’s going to trust their djinnis anymore once word of this gets out. It’s no longer good business, so I’m pulling us out.”