Chapter 27 #2
I’m a liar, a thief. Mean and impatient. God turned his back on me the second my mother was diagnosed with stage four cancer, and I’ve spent my life cursing Him for cursing me, but I’ve spent every single moment of this past hour praying we get out of here in one piece.
I glance up at the sky. It bleeds from black to purple, and with the slow rise of the sun, it’s easier to see.
Easier to be seen too. So I slow down and keep my eyes open as I move through the woods, searching for signs of Breaker.
Every snap of a twig, rustle of leaves, whisper of tree limbs rubbing together, sends sparks of fear through my limbs, making my fingers tingle.
But I move on because if anyone is going to kill this kid, it’s going to be me.
I stop near a tree and drop onto my ass. Fatigue makes my eyelids heavy, and my head swims. I lean back, taking a second to breathe, and search the dirt for a rock or something I can use to mark my path.
That’s when I see it. Right around ankle height. Hope zings through my chest, and I scramble to my knees, running my fingers along the groove.
The mark is clean. Precise.
Fresh.
I trace the mark, remembering the winter he taught us all to carve the little makers in the trunks.
Whenever we went out to hunt rabbits and small game near the school, Hunter would leave these little cuts to help us find our way back.
He said it not only kept us from getting lost, but it helped us to find each other if one of us moved ahead.
Hunter is great at tracking. Hunting. Snaring and basically anything to do with the outdoors and staying alive.
While Reaper brings death, Hunter brings life.
My fingertips come away sticky with pine resin. Somewhere nearby, a twig snaps. I freeze, listening. I dig my long stick into the ground, steadying myself before rising as I glance around, a little seed of hope taking root in my chest.
A light fog snakes through the woods, covering everything in a misty dew.
In the grayish purple light, I catch a shadow dart between trees, and my pulse quickens.
A crunch of leaves and a snap of a twig send my heart into the stratosphere.
I spin, the long stick up and ready to stab, but his gloved hand grips it before it can make contact with his abdomen.
“Fuck all,” he says, ripping it from my grasp. “A stick against a gun?”
My breath whooshes from my lungs.
I knew they would come for us.
I stumble forward, wrapping my arms around his neck. I don’t care that he hates being touched. I don’t care if he tries to break my arms for hugging him, I’ve never been so happy to see Reaper in my entire life.
“Get the fuck off, you stink,” he says as he shoves me away.
“How did you find us?” I ask, drinking in the sight of him. His face, muscular body, his haunting black eyes. His uniform. I take a step back, really looking at him. At the all-black uniform, black gloves, gun in hand. He looks like a soldier.
A savior.
I grind my teeth, trying to hold back the tears. The nagging fear, and the days of stress from trying to keep Striker and Breaker alive finally make my knees weak, and I hold on to Reaper’s arm to steady myself. As much as I want to fall apart, I know I can’t.
He gestures to his side. “This kid here.”
As soon as my gaze locks onto those pale eyes, a chaotic swirl of emotions crashes through me.
I rush forward and grab Breaker’s collar, not sure if I want to throttle him or hug him, but then I catch sight of the dried blood crusted on his temple, the swollen bruise on his forehead, and the blood staining his pants, and a cold shiver runs down my spine.
“You’re hurt?” I ask, barely able to get the words out. I grab at his clothes, looking for a bullet wound, knowing in the back of my head he’d be dead if he’d been shot, but I can’t seem to think past the sudden noise in my head.
“It’s not my blood,” Breaker says, then touches his head. “Well this is, but not the blood on my clothes.”
“Before you go apeshit, I knocked him out.” Hunter’s voice cuts through the woods as he emerges from behind a nearby tree. “It was easier to carry his scrawny ass than have him making a racket like he was. Running all over like a chicken with its head cut off.”
“You ran?” I hiss, my voice a low, dangerous whisper as I shake Breaker. His chin quivers, then he wraps his arms around me in a tight hug, and the tangled knot unravels in my chest.
I take a deep breath, holding him to me, before shoving him back and glancing around. We’re still out here in this nightmare, and now that I have my hands on this kid, I can fully process everything. Reaper and Hunter are here.
Completely geared out.
I take in their outfits, the fatigues, and black boots. The black gaiter Reaper pulled down off his face. The AK in his hands, the knife at his hip, the helmet. Hunter is dressed the same, all the way down to the knife and weapon.
They look like mercenaries.
Real soldiers.
Then again, they are.
And they are here to get us.
And they have water.
I grab the canteen at Reaper’s hip and unscrew it, taking a long pull.
“Easy.” He snatches it from my hands and adjusts it back on his belt, glaring at me. “You’ll make yourself sick if you drink too fast.”
“Where’s Striker?” Hunter asks, leaning sideways to peer past me.
Swiping my lips with the back of my hand, I grimace, but before I can open my mouth, Reaper grips my shirt, pulling me to him. His cool expression turns deadly. “Where the fuck is he?”
“I sent him ahead,” I say, prying his fingers from my shirt. He growls but lets me go. “He has a sprained ankle. I sent him to the cavern you told Breaker about.”
Hunter makes a strange sound in his throat and then says, “Okay. It’s easy to find. How long ago did you leave him?”
He says leave like I had a choice. “An hour?” I guess. “He’s leaving markers on every tree so I can find him.”
“Good, he’s smart. I’m sure he’s found it by now,” Hunter says, nodding. “Let’s get Striker, and we should make it to the airfield before sunset.”
“Airfield?” I ask. “You know about the plane?”
“Yes. The airfield where we landed. We circled the area for the first day, looking for you guys, but figured we’d have better luck on foot.
Took me a minute, but I was finally able to track you all.
” He glances at Reaper. “The airfield is just east of here. Just under a day’s hike.
Father flew us in when he realized what Maxim had done.
We just didn’t know which direction you went. ”
I knew it. That sick bastard has something to do with this. Us in the wilderness unprepared while madmen dismembered people.
“He was the one shooting at us,” Breaker says.
Reaper gestures to the woods behind me. “I nicked him, but he got away. Fucker ran when he realized we were out here. He’s probably back at the lodge by now.”
“He was bleeding good,” Hunter said. “Led us right to Breaker, thank fuck.”
“But why?” I ask, handing Breaker my stick. “Why is he doing this?”
Reaper and Hunter exchange a look.
“Do you know who these people are?” I ask, not liking the silent conversation between them. They always do this and it drives me crazy. “Do you know what they are doing?”
Hunter’s midnight eyes slide to Reap. “Listen, we need to get Striker and get back to the airfield in time for the pickup. There’s a possibility Maxim is still out here.”
“Is he the one who gutted that man?” Breaker asks.
“What man?” Hunter asks.
Breaker looks between the two and shudders. “The one tied to the tree.”
“Gutted?” Hunter asks, frowning. “We didn’t see anybody.”
Reaper curses and looks down at his feet, adjusting his grip on his rifle. He seems to deflate some, a strange expression passing over his face. Remorse?
“They must have cut the body down,” I say. My gut roils at the memory. But why tie him to the tree then move his body? A skittering sensation moves over my skin, and I grip Breaker’s shoulder, grounding myself.
Hunter unsheathes his knife and offers it to me. “Take this. We need to get moving if we’re going to make it in time for pickup.”
“We aren’t leaving her,” Reaper snaps.
“Who?” I ask the same moment Hunter jabs him in the chest and grates out, “I’m not risking my brothers to save her.”
“Who?” I ask again, stepping between them, forcing Hunter to look at me. “What woman?”
“The one who was screaming,” Breaker says. “Reaper says they have her.”
My skin grows cold. The red hair tangled in the trees, the distant screams.
“We’re not leaving her behind,” Reaper says. “I refuse to leave her with him.”
“She’s probably already dead, or close to it,” Hunter says. “If they are out here gutting people, I doubt she’s still breathing.”
“I’m not taking the chance,” Reaper grates. “God knows what he’ll do to her.”
My gut sours, picturing Maxy’s stern face. The scar and the black eyepatch. The man is terrifying. I nudge Hunter. “Who is she?”
“She’s the goddamn reason we’re in this mess,” Hunter says, jabbing at Reaper’s chest again. “She made her bed. Let her fucking die in it.”
“Father is the reason we are here.” Reaper slaps Hunter’s finger away. “He’s the reason we’re all here.”
“Fucking fine.” Hunter throws his arms up, then drops them and points at Reaper.
“You take Break and go get Strike.” He turns to me and takes a deep breath.
His jaw flexes, and he shakes his head like he’s already regretting this.
“You and I will go find that woman. I just sure as shit hope we don’t regret it. ”