Chapter 20 Adam
Adam
Muzzle flashes lit up the ridge like lightning. The air reeked of gunpowder, wet earth, and smoke. My rifle kicked hard against my shoulder as I dropped another masked bastard trying to flank Hawk’s position.
“Two more down!” Hawk’s voice crackled in my comm. His tone was sharp, steady, but I knew that edge—he was being pressed.
“Hold the line,” I snapped, sweeping left.
Blade appeared out of the trees like a ghost, knife dripping rain, eyes cold. “They’re trying to push us south. Herd us.”
“Not happening,” I growled.
Bullets tore through the SUV we’d abandoned, shattering glass and spraying sparks.
I ducked low, mud splashing up my vest. Russ returned fire from the far side, calm and precise, every shot measured.
Boone should have been covering him from the Jeep, but Boone wasn’t here—he was hauling Raine and the survivors to safety.
At least, that had been the plan.
Static hissed in my comm. Then Boone’s voice, tight and low: “Stoker—we’ve got a tail. Two vehicles, closing fast.”
Cold hit my gut. I glanced toward the ridge where Raine’s Jeep had disappeared, my chest clenching hard.
Not safe. Not clear.
“Get them out,” I ordered, firing another burst. “Stay alive. Do not engage unless you have to.”
Raine’s voice cut in, fierce and defiant, even through the static. “We can handle it.”
Damn her.
“Raine—” A round pinged off the hood beside my head, cutting me short. I hit the dirt, rolled, and came up firing.
One masked man dropped. Another took his place. More coming. Too many.
Hawk swore over the comm. “We’re outnumbered three to one. We can’t hold this position much longer.”
“Then we make it costly.” I reloaded, slammed the bolt forward, and bared my teeth.
Because if Raine was out there in someone else’s crosshairs, then I’d turn this ridge into a graveyard before I let these bastards take another step.