43. Huxley
43
HUXLEY
I navigate the downward slope, my steps cautious yet swift as the lodge materializes from the dusky shadows ahead. Suddenly, the stillness of the night is violently broken by the harsh staccato of gunshots echoing from the crest of the hill behind me. Instinctively, I dive for cover behind a decrepit storage shed. My heart hammers in my chest as adrenaline surges through my veins, sharpening my senses to a razor’s edge.
Fuck those Blackwater Brutes! I can tell from the rhythm and intensity that they’re moving fast, and they’re out in the open. The brief flashes from their weapons cut through the dark, revealing their positions. They’re all facing forward, likely unaware of Chase’s presence behind them, his sniper rifle trained on their backs.
With no time to waste, I charge ahead, putting my trust entirely in Chase. He knows what to do, and I have to believe he’ll thin their numbers before they even realize what hit them.
As I run, the lodge looms larger. All the lights are off inside, plunging it into deep shadows. My years as a Navy SEAL didn’t just teach me combat. They honed my ability to adapt to any situation. Tonight, without my NOD, I rely solely on my training and instincts. The darkness, which might have been an impediment, now serves as my ally, shrouding me as I move stealthily closer.
Then, the air turns silent once more. The gunfire has stopped. I pause, listening for any sign of movement or distress, but there is nothing. It’s a profound silence, one that speaks of a job well done. No doubt Chase has neutralized the threat, his efficiency in the field once again proving invaluable.
Carefully, I circle to the front of the lodge. I scan the area, using every shadow, every stir of wind to my advantage. The entrance beckons. With one last look around to ensure I’m not walking into a trap, I step inside, ready to face whatever awaits.
The beam of my flashlight shines through the darkness inside the lodge. As I cautiously scan the room, the light reveals a horrifying sight that leaves me reeling—a lifeless form hanging among the remnants of shattered shelves. It’s a woman, her head dangling, hair tied in a ponytail. A sharp hook is lodged in her back, curving out of her chest.
Death has crossed my path many times before, but this encounter makes me sick.
Savannah often ties her hair like that.
God, please, no. It can’t be her!
I raise her head to inspect her face, prepared to bring vengeance upon whoever is responsible if it happens to be Savannah.
With a synchronized exhale, I let go, feeling a wave of relief. Whoever she is, I push aside the urge to speculate on the perpetrator and remind myself of my mission—finding Sav.
I continue searching. The light catches on a length of rope wrapped loosely around a wooden pillar, the fibers still strained from recent use. No question about it—Savannah was here, and something went down.
The sharp thud of boots on the wooden floor makes me kill my flashlight and duck. No sooner have I moved than a bullet whizzes past, but I’ve already rolled away from my spot. Whoever is here with me is big, heavy—even if he tries, he can’t hide the sound of his footsteps. No doubt, I’m in the company of the infamous leader of the Blackwater Brutes.
I crawl like a leopard, the epitome of stealth, inching closer to The Hog from behind, staying low to the ground.
“Huxley Cometti, a Red Mark agent, a supposed hero of the innocent,” he shouts mockingly. He spins around with every step, and I can tell he has no clue where I am.
I spring up, launching myself at him with all the force I can muster. It feels like hurling myself against a brick wall, but the element of surprise works in my favor. He drops his gun and flashlight in a clatter. I snake my arm around his neck, constricting it, my Glock firmly on his temple. “Where is she?” I demand.
He scoffs, unfazed by the gun pointed at him. The man’s bigger than me. He probably thinks his size will give him the upper hand. “I thought you only dealt with children. This ain’t no kindergarten, son.”
My finger tightens on the trigger. “Where is she?” I repeat, sharper. He attempted to murder her before, and I refuse to even consider the idea that he succeeded this time.
“I don’t know,” he says. “As you can see, she attacked Juliet and then bolted.”
Juliet? That dead woman is Fabian’s ex-wife? I don’t know how the hell she got tangled up in this, but knowing she was a mother, I feel a prick in my gut. This is all messed up, but I’m not buying his story about Savannah fleeing .
I tighten my grip as he tries to set himself free, keeping my Glock on him.
“Sorry, can’t help you here, Mr. Cometti.” His resistance is fading, but my senses are heightened. A mere twitch in his arm sends alarm bells ringing.
Suddenly, with a burst of terrifying speed, he moves his arm, reaching for something at his side. The flashlight on the floor casts shadows around us, but I catch the glint of metal in his hand.
I release him completely, letting myself fall to the floor. The move creates just enough distance to get out of his reach and gives me the space I need to end him.
The loose wooden floor shakes as the big man hits the ground with a heavy thud. I’m certain he was the last one standing between me and her. Frantically, I dart around the lodge, lifting cushions and tossing aside storage boxes. “Savannah!” My voice reverberates in the empty spaces, desperate and raw.
She’s nowhere inside.
Bursting out the back door, I plow through the darkness, my flashlight searching frenziedly. I call her again, and in the rebound of my voice, a persistent thumping sound grabs my attention. I halt, straining to locate its source. It’s coming from a decrepit freezer tucked away in the corner, its lid rattling subtly.
“Sav!” My throat is tight as I call out to her.
A faint, muffled scream answers back.
Without a second thought, I aim and shoot the padlock, snapping it open. I fling back the lid, and there she is.
“Sav!” I stoop and lift her into my arms. “Baby… I’m here. I’m right here.”
I remove her gag, feeling my own hands shaking.
“Hux!” she cries, her voice breaking with relief .
I settle her across my lap, my survival knife slicing through the ropes that bind her wrists. The moment she’s free, she throws her arms around me. I breathe into her as if I would die if I didn’t.
“Hux, you found me.”
“Are you okay? Tell me you’re okay,” I beg as I frantically check her for injuries. The skin around her wrists is raw, a sign that she was struggling to set herself free.
“Where is he?” She straightens up, eyes searching around nervously.
“He’s gone. I mean, he won’t bother us anymore.”
“He’s dead? Is that what you mean?”
Thoughts of almost losing her kept me from articulating the word as if it would cast a curse on us. “Yes, Sav.”
She exhales as she snuggles back into my arms.
“Tell me you’re okay, baby.” I need to hear her say it.
“Yeah,” she whispers, trying to muster a brave smile.
Then my eyes land on her left foot. They’ve removed her shoes and socks, and what I see is alarming. “Jesus, Sav...” The faint light reveals a swollen mess like an abstract blob. If it was daylight, I would’ve seen it discolored, covered with deep shades of purple and blue.
“Well, my foot’s busted, but otherwise, I’m fine.” She gives me a weak smile. “How did you find me?” There’s a hint of knowing in her eyes as if she already has her suspicions.
“Misty.”
“I thought I heard her,” Savannah murmurs, taking a deep, shuddering breath. “I owe my life to that loyal girl.”
I pull her closer, my lips meeting hers in a kiss filled with relief, love, and promises too deep for words.
I can’t help but grin. “How about me?”
“You know, horses have a keen sense about their riders.” She places a palm against my cheek. “Maybe you were guiding her, even from afar.”
I chuckle, giving her palm a peck.
“I owe everything to you, Hux,” she says, her embrace wrapping me in warmth only she can give.
But then she wriggles herself free, sitting up nervously.
“What is it, Sav?”
“Juliet… I didn’t mean to kill her.”
“It wasn’t your fault, I’m sure.” I see the guilt flash in her eyes, a shadow darker than the darkness of the night. I’ve known that feeling too well, and I don’t want her to taste even a drop of it. She doesn’t deserve that kind of pain. “You fought her for a reason.”
“She was going to hurt my—” She puts her hand on her belly. “Our…”
Rage burns in me. Suddenly, I’m glad that woman is dead. Juliet was going to hurt Savannah and her baby? Our baby? That woman deserved what was delivered to her! I feel sorry for her daughter, but Juliet doesn’t deserve a sliver of sympathy from me! And in time, I’ll convince Sav that Juliet doesn’t deserve hers either.
Savannah’s fingers tremble against her belly. I envelop her hand in mine, applying a small pressure as I guide it in circular motions.
“You knew?” she whispers, her eyes searching mine for confirmation.
I respond with a sly twinkle, craving to hear the words from her. “Knew what?”
She exhales, a smile breaking through. “I’m pregnant, Hux.”
The world seems to halt around us, background noise fading into a distant murmur. Our bodies press close, lost in a deep kiss as if nothing else exists .
Then I pull back slightly, confusion creases my brow. “When did we make the baby, Sav? I can’t remember us ever skipping protection.”
Her eyes hold mine, filled with a calm certainty. “I’m not quite sure myself, but it’s meant to be,” she says, her voice laced with conviction that this new life was destined to be part of our journey.
Just then, Chase Samson appears, racing downhill toward us.
“Told ya, a Grizzly can hit forty miles an hour,” I quip to Savannah as we observe his rapid approach.
Chase towers before us, pausing to catch his breath. Then he kneels, his eyes sweeping over us. “Are you both okay?”
We nod. Amusement and appreciation light up Savannah’s smile.
“Thank you, Chase,” she says, straightening up and reaching out to him.
“Anytime, Savannah.” Chase wraps her in a gentle hug.
In that moment, I shift to hook my arm around him. He’s more than just my partner at Red Mark. Beyond the bonds of duty, we share a brotherhood shaped by grueling training and the missions that push us to our limits. I give his back a firm pat. “I owe you one, Chase Samson.”
“I’ll hold you to that,” he replies, then steps away, allowing us space.
I draw Savannah back into my embrace, feeling her snuggle closer. As I tighten my hold, I silently vow to never let her go.
As the cold of the night begins to recede, Sav murmurs, “I’m home.”
The words are poignant. I know it pains her, knowing the valley home she loved is no longer hers to return to.
Then, with clarity, she adds, “You. You’re my home.”