Chapter 23
Fucking Shotguns
Rhys
I’m silently cursing myself that I didn’t spot the Scourge before they were already upon us. But the chestnut-haired beauty that waltzed into our lives over a week ago distracted me. And now I’ve put my friends, my brothers, in danger.
All because I can’t get my shit together.
Guilt burns my chest as glass crunches beneath heavy boots and voices echo somewhere in the cottage.
All of us scramble to take up defensive positions within the room we commandeered for the night as the voices grow louder.
Alex and Theo draw their handguns while Ollie grips her knife.
Beside her, Harlow stands, snarling, her white fangs luminescent in the dark room.
Since we’re in such close quarters, I use my handgun instead of my rifle. While the barrel is shorter compared to our usual service rifles, it’s still too unwieldy for the tight corners of this tiny house.
I just finish running last minute checks on my Glock when the first gang member staggers through the door with a bright shaft of light coming from the torch he’s holding.
I react first, putting a bullet in his skull before he can even react.
His body crashes to the ground, along with the torch, which illuminates the room in a soft glow.
I grab the torch. “Stay behind me,” I bark before striding out of the room, using the torch to light the way through the pitch black cottage. We need to get out of this death trap before more arrive.
The crunch of glass beneath boots is all the warning I get before I see the barrel of a shotgun pointing toward me.
Lifting the light, I blind the guy pulling the trigger and dodge to the side just as a shotgun blast explodes in the tiny space.
The shot goes wide, buckshot embedding into the wall on my left and causing plaster and debris to rain down on us.
I hear a feminine yelp behind me but don’t dare look and instead aim and shoot the shotgun wielder in the head.
He drops to the ground and the gun clatters, causing a second shot to burst out from the barrel.
Pain explodes across my shoulder and left arm as tiny pellets rip their way through my flesh and muscle.
“Fuck!” My hand spasms around the torch before dropping it with a thunk. Hot blood soaks through my shirt and jacket and dribbles down my arm to drip onto the floor at my feet.
“You hit?” Theo asks behind me. “Or are you just shouting obscenities for the fun of it?”
“Hit. Left arm and shoulder,” I grit out.
“Alright, well, try not to bleed out or pass out before I can get my hands on you. I don’t want to carry you like a damsel. You’re heavy as fuck,” is Theo’s sardonic reply.
“I’ll try not to,” I retort drily before surging onward down the narrow corridor toward the back door of the cottage.
Only for said door to burst open and the predatory gleam of an infected gaze catches my eye as it rushes through toward me.
My eyes water and bile burns my throat as the pungent stench of human waste and decomposition assaults my senses.
The infected’s jaws yawn open as it reaches me before I can raise my gun to shoot.
It grabs my useless arm with a rotting hand and slams the hand holding my gun into the stone wall.
My hand spasms and the gun clatters to the ground, swallowed by darkness.
I shout as agony slices through me. I try to pull away, but my injured shoulder refuses to obey, leaving me to stumble almost blind with pain as the infected yanks me toward it.
“Rhys! Fuck!” I hear Theo say behind me as the infected lifts my arm towards its mouth.
A shot rings out, the sound deafening in the tight space.
The infected drops my arm just centimetres from its mouth and collapses to the ground in a rotting heap, a bullet hole in its head.
I suck in a sharp breath, not letting my mind linger on just how close to death I just was, and drop to find my gun.
As I stand, a hand lands on my good shoulder. “Let me take point before you get yourself killed or bitten,” Theo says, or rather, orders, before brushing past me and stepping over the corpse of the infected.
Unfortunately, before he can reach the door, two more gang members emerge from the darkness.
Thankfully, they’re only armed with a knife and a cricket bat covered in barbed wire.
Theo doesn’t hesitate as he lifts his handgun and puts a bullet into the brain of the first man while I shoot the second.
The bodies only just hit the floor when several more gang members shove their way into the tight space of the cottage hallway. Theo curses and shoves both me and himself to the side as a shotgun blast rings out. Plaster and pieces of stone explode outward as the pellets hit the wall next to us.
“Fucking shotguns,” I growl, the fiery pain scorching my left arm and shoulder making me grouchier than usual.
“Yeah, they don’t seem to be a fan of you either,” Theo mutters as he takes aim and shoots the shotgun wielder in the shoulder.
The gunman cries out and the shotgun clatters to the ground, thankfully not going off like the last one.
I raise my gun and finish him off. The body drops and a new gang member takes his place, this time armed with fucking throwing knives.
And the only reason I know that is because he lets one loose.
The knife narrowly misses my good shoulder and thunks into the wall behind me.
Another knife sails through the air, this time toward Theo, who’s stalking toward the gang member. The knife misses and before he can let loose another one, Theo shoots him in the head.
“That’s the last time he’ll bring a knife to a gunfight.” Theo shakes his head and uses the slight reprieve to glance over his shoulder at us. “Everyone still breathing? Good.” He turns his attention back to the door and our next potential enemy.
Unfortunately, that’s when things go from bad to worse.
A deafening explosion rocks the cottage. Glass shatters and stone walls crumble as we’re all thrown to the ground from the blast and end up in a tangled mess of limbs.
Hot, all-consuming pain sears my left side and I bite my tongue to stop myself from crying out.
The only reason I’m still conscious and lucid right now is because of the boat-load of adrenaline pumping through my veins.
My ears ring from the explosion, making it hard to hear anything as I blink around the surrounding darkness.
Harsh, panicked breaths fan over my cheek and I turn to see Ollie lying next to me, her eyes wide and glazed with fear.
Gone is the brave woman who disobeyed my orders to save mine and Theo’s asses, and in its place is a quivering mess of a woman with unseeing eyes.
Something has set her off, and now she’s in the middle of a panic attack.
But there’s nothing I can do to help her.
Not when we’re in the middle of a fucking war zone.
I grab her shoulder and shake her as hard as I can. “Focus, princess!” I shout, only just hearing my voice over the ringing.
She blinks and while the terror is still there, it’s lessened enough to where she’s no longer frozen in panic.
She gives me a jerky nod and flicks her gaze around us.
I do the same, grimacing at the rubble littering what used to be the front hallway of the cottage.
The wall that was once there is gone, allowing moonlight to filter through from the shattered window and missing outer wall.
Whatever bomb they just used, it completely fucked the cottage. We need to move before the structure caves in on us or they set off another bomb.
Gritting my teeth, I struggle to my feet, relieved to see that both Theo and Alex appear unharmed as they stand next to one another.
Ollie follows our lead, wobbling to her feet beside Harlow, who’s covered in dust and speckled with blood but appears fine.
I don’t dare glance at my wounded side, already knowing it’s going to be a mess of blood and torn flesh.
“We need to move,” I bite out, keeping my voice low now that I’m able to hear myself. “Fast.”
Theo nods, but Alex doesn’t appear to hear me, his eyes glued to my injury.
“Rhys…” he whispers, the horror clear on his pale face.
I shake my head. “Not now. The building could collapse on us at any moment. Now get your fucking asses moving!”
Surprisingly, Ollie is the first to obey my order. She picks her way through the rubble toward the back door that’s surprisingly intact. Apparently, being in a semi-panicked state makes her obedient.
With women before her, I would have enjoyed it, but not her. It feels wrong for her to be so quiet and docile. I need her steeled spine and fiery defiance that begs for me to tame her. Not this shell of a woman.
Shit. I really am fucked when it comes to her.
I shake the thought away and follow her, with Theo and Alex bringing up the rear. The only sound is our harsh breathing, the crunch of debris beneath our feet and the ominous creaking of the destroyed cottage around us. It’s eerie how quiet it is, and alarm bells blare in my mind.
Scourge gang members should be pouring into the cottage, or setting off more bombs at us, but there’s none of that. There’s no more fireworks outside or even the sound of people outside, almost like they just left.
Surely they don’t think the explosion killed us and aren’t bothering to check?
The skin between my shoulder blades itches and a sense of unease settles heavily on my chest. I reach out and grab Ollie’s shoulder before she steps through the doorway.
“Wait here,” I tell her before glancing over my shoulder at my two brothers.
“Something’s off. I’ll go first, then Theo and Alex, you take up the rear with Ollie. ”
I turn, not waiting for them to agree, but a hand on my shoulder stops me.
“Rhys, you’re injured and in no state to take point,” Theo says, tightening his hand on my shoulder. “I’m taking point. Alex second, and you bring up the rear with Ollie.”