Collins sat still for a moment, then threw open the door and ran around to the back of the truck, jerking open the handles.
Nancy fell out into his arms.
"What kind of ambulance is this?" she demanded. "It doesn't look like an ambulance. It doesn't smell like an ambulance. It looks like—looks like—"
Collins said, "Shut up. Get out of there. We've got to hide."
"Why?"
"They think I murdered you."
"Murdered me? But I'm alive. Can't they see I'm alive?"
Collins shook his head. "I doubt it. I don't know why, but I don't think it would be that simple. Come with me."
The blood on her breast had dried, and he could see it was only a shallow groove dug by the bullet. But she flinched in pain as she began to walk, pulling the muscles.
They stopped and leaned against a half-finished metallic shed.