Chapter 129
Harper
The sight of Redwood’s hub stole my breath.
Steel fencing coiled around the compound like barbed wire on a wound.
Floodlights swept in timed arcs, slicing across gravel lots and low, blocky buildings.
Armed men moved in pairs along the perimeter, their rifles gleaming under the light.
From up here, the place looked impenetrable, a fortress built on shadows and blood.
For a moment, the old fear surged—icy, suffocating, the kind that whispered I didn’t belong here, that I’d only slow them down.
But then Carter’s hand brushed mine again, grounding me. He didn’t speak, didn’t need to. The weight of his touch said it all: you’re not alone in this. But I knew they were all risking their life for me. I am the one these killers wanted.
I swallowed hard and forced myself to look, really look. This was the monster that had haunted me in whispers and threats, that had marked me, tried to break me. And now, standing on this ridge, I felt something stronger than fear.
Anger.
It curled hot in my chest, burning through the tremor in my hands, through the quiver in my knees. Redwood wasn’t just Carter’s enemy. They were mine.
River’s voice cut low through the dark. “Patrols shift every fifteen minutes. That’s our window.”
Gideon tapped on his tablet, the glow faint against his face. “Once I overload their comms, security cameras go blind. Ten minutes, no more.”
Cyclone cracked his neck, grinning sharp. “Plenty of time to make some noise.”
Their words blurred at the edges as I stared down at the compound. For the first time, I wasn’t imagining what Redwood could do to me. I was imagining what we would do to them.
I pressed closer to Carter, my voice a whisper meant only for him. “Let’s end this.”
He looked at me then, his eyes fierce and unyielding, and I knew he heard not just the fear in my voice but the fire too.
Together.
And for the first time, the word didn’t just feel like a promise.
It felt like a battle cry.