I knelt down next to Striker’s body and picked up his gun. I checked to make sure it still had some bullets left in it. It had two. I put it in my shoulder holster and felt around inside Striker’s jacket until I found the keys to the van that brought us up there, getting his warm blood all over my hands in the process. I used the end of his jacket to wipe them off.
I stood up and looked at Harrigan.
“Thanks, Jim,” I said.
He smiled, “We’ve got to stick together, Jake. That’s how we survive.”