"Nate--??" If history has a habit of repeating itself, the gunfire shouldn't come as a shock. Luck, on the other hand, runs out. And fast. She can't trust him to scrape through on his own.

Chloe's already on her feet by the time the deafening crackle of gunfire registers, wading down across slanted flooring into a flooded pool of stagnant rainwater, shattered tiles crunching under her heels. Anything less than cautious and she'll be taking a quick tumble into already strained support structures. The radio stays both in hand and out of use till she's pulled herself up through a section of busted brick onto a sturdy ledge that sits less than a story from the street.

"Nate, what's going on?"