Chapter 36 Raine
Raine
Mud clung to my boots like chains as I dragged Boone higher onto the embankment. His weight pressed heavily against me, every groan from him a reminder that he was alive—but barely.
The mother stumbled close behind, clutching her son to her chest, his small arms still wrapped tight around her neck. His thin cries cut through the storm, raw and terrified.
“We can’t stay here,” I said, voice rough, pushing wet hair out of my eyes. “The water’s rising. And what if they come looking?”
Boone coughed, spitting river water into the mud. “You think those bastards are done? Not a chance.” He winced, but the corner of his mouth still tugged into a weak grin. “Good thing I’m too damn mean to die. And that I have a great swimmer as my teammate.”
“Not funny,” I snapped, adjusting his arm over my shoulder. My ribs screamed, but I gritted through it. “We need cover.”
The mother’s wide, fearful eyes lifted to me. “Where?”
I scanned the treeline—shadows shifting in the storm. Lightning flashed, revealing a half-collapsed barn farther up the slope. That’s when I spotted the man lying facedown on the ground ahead. I stopped and helped him to stand. The barn's roof sagged, one wall bowed, but it was better than nothing.
“There,” I pointed. “Move.”
Every step was a battle. The boy clung tighter to his mother, Boone leaned heavier into me, and the storm battered us all like it wanted to finish what the river had started. But inch by inch, we reached the barn.
Inside, it was damp and half-rotted, but the walls blocked the worst of the rain. I lowered Boone against a beam, his breath ragged but steady. The mother curled with her son in a corner, whispering reassurances. The old man looked around, shaking his head.
For a moment, I sagged against the wall, every muscle trembling. My body begged to collapse, to shut down. But my mind wouldn’t let me.
Because I could still hear the gunfire in my head.
Adam was still out there.
Alive or not—I didn’t know. And the not knowing was tearing me apart.
I pressed a hand to my ribs, tasting blood in my mouth, and whispered to the storm.
“Please… let him still be fighting.”