“Hey, you’re not—”
Heart thundering, I whip around and tackle the man to the ground before he can move from confusion to deadly force. He’s a big bastard, but I’m not exactly light either, and he gasps as the breath is knocked from him. I force my hand over his mouth, and he punches my ribs as we grapple in the dirt. Grunting, I try to get my knife up, but the move unbalances me, and he flips me on my back.
Rather than going for the kill though, he pushes up. “Where are they all?” he snaps. “Where are all the women? Families?”
He punches my ribs again, and I groan.
“Sam said—”
My blade finds his throat in the next instance, buried to the hilt. His hands come up to meet it, his eyes wide in shock, and I twist before yanking it out. Blood spurts down, coating me, and I shove him to the side so his weight doesn’t pin me.
Families? Women? It’s been a long time since we had any here, but when we kicked Sam out . . . well, that was a different story. I wonder if he lied to them so he could get his revenge or if he genuinely doesn’t know everyone else cleared out years ago.
Wiping my face with my forearm, tasting thick copper on my lips, I push back up. I move toward the sounds of gunfire. The why doesn’t matter now. There’s no time.
Please, God, don’t let any of them do anything too stupid. Let me save them.
I don’t know if the brief prayer means much, but I figure it can’t really hurt either. My mama used to send up little prayers like that on the daily. “Never hurts to show your respect,” she used to say. “You never know who’s listening.”
We’re going to need someone listening to our prayers today.
I approach the shooters carefully—there’s at least four here, and who knows how many others nearby. This probably won’t end well for me. I wish Jasper and Jayk were in kits the way Dom and I are. If they were, I could let them know what I have planned on our comms and this plan would have a much higher likelihood of success. But they’re not stupid. If I create a big enough diversion, they’ll take the opportunity to run. They’d better.
With a sting of regret, I think of Eden and how pretty she was as she lay nestled between me and Dom by the waterside.
I’m so sorry, darlin’。
Don’t see why I can’t pray to her too. Being with her is about as close to a religious experience as I’ve had in years.
Taking out my radio, I open the speaker and give my final words to Dom. My best friend. My partner.
I owe him that much.
I turn it off before he can respond and tuck it away, swallowing hard.
Then I tighten my grip on the knife, unholster my pistol, and move in.
Chapter 36
Dominic
SURVIVAL TIP #336
Don’t ever underestimate the bravery of a woman
who looks at you with stars in her eyes.
I train my rifle on the trees and pick off two assholes who are rounding the far side of the shed to get to Jayk. They go down silently, with a spray of blood that snares the burning light.
Thick smoke from the treated wood hazes my view—not the worst visibility we’ve fought in, but not ideal. The barn is starting to groan now. It won’t be long before it goes down, and Jasper and Lucky and that damn truck are too close to it for comfort. It must be hotter than Satan’s ballsack already.
I briefly worry about drones spotting the heat signature, just to top off this shitshow, but shrug off the thought quickly. We haven’t seen any in years and there’s not much we can do about it now in any case. Fortunate or dead seem about our only outcomes in this whole hot mess.
I consider my position. My vantage from the upper-story window in the music room is good, and my rifle can handle the distance no problem, but it doesn’t give me visibility through trees, and the hunters are hidden in the shadows. I’ll be hard pressed to pick them off unless they expose themselves.
Soon enough they’ll get bold, I’m sure, but if they charge out in numbers, then my guys are fucked. No way I can take out more than half a dozen in the time they’ll take to get to them.
And that’s not counting damage the barn will do.
I eye the hole gauged in the middle of the clearing, the bodies splashed around it, and have to admire Lucky’s balls, even as my throat tightens. Disobedient little shit had kept a frag in the house after all, despite my safety lectures, and I’m glad as fuck he did. Right now, I’m dreaming of a dozen more just like it. He gave Jasper and Jayk a chance with that move. A slim one, but a chance anyway.
My chest aches. For the first time, I’m not sure how we can make it out of this one.
A creak in a floorboard behind me has me spinning with a curse. I’d thought it’d take them longer to decide to come around and use the house. Reluctantly, I draw away from covering the guys and creep to the door, pulling out my pistol.
Another creak sounds in the hall, and I tense, getting ready.
“Dom?”
Yanking myself back, I press the grip of the Beretta to my forehead and pray for strength. “Eden? ”
Opening the door, I move to grab her and then have to stop. She’s . . . loaded up. She has a bazooka slung heavily over one shoulder—the fucking military grade rocket launcher she and Lucky stole from my room—and a duffel bag hanging off the other. She’s panting, red cheeked and wide eyed.
“What the hell did you do?” Reholstering my pistol, I pull her inside and take the bazooka. It’s not light, and I don’t know if I’m pissed or impressed. “Eden, I appreciate the thought but this thing is useless without—”
“These. I know, Lucky showed me.” She unslings the bag and unzips it quickly. “I couldn’t carry that fancy box thing so I just grabbed a duffel.”
Nearly a dozen rounds spill out, and I flinch at the careless way they’re packed. My heart is thundering in my chest, and I decide now isn’t the time to yell at her about weapon safety. There are high explosive rounds, anti-tank rounds, illumination, smoke, area defense munitions . . .
“Eden,” I breathe, kneeling beside her.
She looks up at me nervously. “I’m sorry, I know you said to go to the cave, but I was thinking about . . . anyway I remembered about all the weapons, and I thought, if I could just get them to you then—”
I yank her to me, cutting her off with my tongue and kissing her thoroughly. When I pull back, she stares at me, breathless and dazed and looking like every fantasy I never realized I had. A rumpled, repressed librarian with more courage than I ever gave her credit for.
Then I hear shouting though the window—Jayk?—and a spray of gunfire, and I come back to earth.
“You did good, pet. Real good. Is there more?”
Blinking a few times, she sucks in a breath and then nods. “Yes, loads more. I just couldn’t carry them all.”
Relief and desperation spikes. “Okay, listen to me carefully. I need you to bring me some things.”
I quickly describe the weapons I need while loading the bazooka. I have no idea what Lucky has stashed—I thought we used most of what we grabbed from the base—but the damn guy was a magpie.
Is a magpie, damn it.
I lift the loaded weapon to my shoulder, and Eden gets to her feet.
“Eden?” I say as she turns to go. When her eyes lift to mine, as big and intelligent as the first time I saw her, I murmur, “Thank you.”