Chapter Seventeen #3
The next phase was sustained suppression, rounds eating up anything that moved, and plenty that didn’t.
Every attempt to regroup collapsed under pressure.
West held. North tightened. The breach turned into a choke point instead of an opening.
I tracked movement in pieces and didn’t miss the renewed vigor in the expressions of our defenders.
Heads came up. Men and women who had been merely holding were now committed to the offensive.
Eyes kept drifting to Naomi, then back to work, each time fiercer than before.
Something deep in my chest felt wrong, urgent, nothing I could describe but I felt it in my bones.
My attention snapped back to the bunker.
The entrance wasn’t as quiet as it should have been.
There was too much movement, too much disorganization atypical from what I’d seen from Marcel’s men all night.
I scanned the area, looking for Thomas, Travis, Trent, the twins, anyone to direct to the door that led to our children.
“Maddox!” I yelled, hoping anyone would answer. They didn’t.
I couldn’t wait. I broke away from Zeke and Naomi and ran, pushing my already exhausted body to the limit. It took me less than a minute to reach where I’d just seen Bodhi, two lifeless bodies behind their cover coming into view.
For half a second, I felt panic well up within me, but then I recognized them as Carlisi men. The closer I came to the entrance, the more bodies I stepped over. I kept my rifle ready, observing the clothing of each one I passed.
At the entrance, one man lay sprawled, much like the one at the base of the tower.
Another was slumped against the wall, weapon still in his hand.
A third lay on his back, throat open. And then there was a girl.
Young, beautiful… Novak. The female soldier in desert fatigues that had come to the Longhouse on our first morning at the compound to watch over Stella, Olive, and Bodhi when we went to speak with Marcel for the first time.
She was still in those fatigues, but this time, they were soaked in her blood.
Bodhi sat just beyond her, alive, but just barely. His back was against the entrance wall, one hand pressed to his side, his shirt dark crimson. His other hand still held his borrowed rifle, not one he’d gotten from Marcel, but a dropped combatant.
“Hey, Liis,” he said with tired eyes and a weak smile.
I dropped beside him. “I’m here,” I said, ripping the bottom of my shirt to form a pressure bandage.
“I tried to save her,” he said, his bottom lip trembling. “She was ordered by Ibarra to help me protect the bunker. She took out that guy”—he nodded toward her victim—“and that guy, and slit that guy’s throat just to get hit by a stray round. She didn’t even see it coming.”
“Where’s Ellie?”
“Abby showed up and said there’d been a breach, so I sent Ellie down with her. She didn’t want to leave me alone, but I kind of yelled at her to get her to go down where it was safe.”
“It’s fine,” I said, nodding as I worked.
He glanced at Novak and then closed his eyes tight, a tear streaking through the dirt on his face. “It was fast, but for those last few seconds, she was scared. She was calling out for her dad.”
“Is he here?”
His face crumbled. “I don’t know. We didn’t have time to talk. She got here and everything blew up around us. I put pressure on her neck, but… there was just too much blood. It was just pouring out of her and then those other guys showed up and I couldn’t do both, I…”
“Bodhi,” I said, trying to hide my emotions. “Look at me. You did everything you could. You did everything right. Was there anyone with Novak?”
He laughed once. “No, and the other guys had to leave before she got here. And then Carlisis came. They knew who was down there and tried to get in. I… didn’t let them.”
“I see that,” I said, offering a proud grin. The dead men around us made the point for him.
“You can’t save everyone, Bodhi. But you saved Olive. You did good.”
“Yeah?” he said, wincing as I pressed.
Before I could answer, his eyes rolled up behind his eyelids, and he slumped to the side.
“Bodhi!” I yelled, easing him to the ground.
“Don’t you do it,” I growled. “Medic! Medic, bunker entrance!” I looked down at him, driving the heel of my hand into his wound to slow the blood from pouring from his wound. “Stay with me, damn it!”
I checked his pulse. Weak, but still there. I glanced around and called for a medic again, pressing so hard his body shifted under my weight.
“Liis?” Thomas said from behind me, kneeling next to me as he scanned our surroundings.
“He’s hit,” I said, emotion fracturing my words.
“The medics are busy at the breach,” he said. “Don’t let up on the pressure. They’ll get here soon.”
“He doesn’t have a lot of time. We have to get him to the infirmary. Now,” I insisted.
Thomas stood, glanced around, and then blew out a breath, nodding. “Step aside.”
I stood, moving out of his way as he positioned himself to offset Bodhi’s weight. Thomas lifted him with a grunt, Bodhi’s lanky arms and legs hanging loose and unresponsive as we ran to find help.
I refused to think too much about Olive in that moment, fearing the intrusive thoughts that would inevitably break through. I’d seen what the belief of losing Olive had done to the people who loved her. I couldn’t let myself imagine Bodhi’s death hollowing her out the same way.