Alice ejected the empty clip and stepped backward, fumbling for the ricochet cartridge. The hack-job forced himself toward her. She didn’t have time to get a defensive block up, and he punched her in the middle of her chest. The blow was like an exploding grenade; air blew out of her as she flew backward, arms out, trying to keep her balance. Her boot caught a loose cable and the floor and ceiling swapped places. The impact was hard, breath forced from her in a scream. Hands against the cold floor, she tried to push up, her boots scrambling for friction.