Chapter 21 #2
Branches lash across my shoulders while wet leaves slide beneath my boots, every step threatening to send me face-first into the dirt.
Gunfire continues erupting behind me, close enough that I can hear rounds chewing through bark instead of flesh, which tells me Legion is doing exactly what Damien ordered.
They’re not trying to win the fight anymore. They’re buying me seconds.
The gap shrinks with every stride until I can hear the bastard breathing over the sound of my own boots.
He risks a glance over his shoulder. Big mistake.
I throw everything I have into the last few steps, launch myself forward, and drive my shoulder straight into the middle of his back.
We crash into the forest floor hard enough to roll through wet leaves and exposed roots, neither of us keeping track of where the ground ends and the sky begins until we finally stop with me on top and him scrambling for the pistol that flew out of his hand.
I trap his wrist before his fingers reach it. His free hand dives beneath his jacket instead. Not for another weapon. For another talisman.
“Oh, absolutely the fuck not.”
I slam his forearm into the ground hard enough to knock the chain loose before wrenching both arms behind his back. He thrashes beneath me with the desperate strength of a man who has just realized his plan is falling apart, but he’s wasting his energy. I’ve wrestled men twice his size.
“Amara!” I shout over the battle raging around us. “Love… mind giving me a hand with this one?”
For the briefest moment, nothing happens. Then the ground beneath us shudders. Roots burst through the leaf litter in every direction, coiling around his wrists, ankles, waist, and throat before tightening just enough to pin him flat against the forest floor without crushing him.
“There you are,” I say, unable to stop myself from smiling. “Thanks, sweetheart.”
The roots tighten another fraction.
I have a feeling that’s her version of rolling her eyes.
“See? Knew you’d help me.” I pat one of the roots beside my knee. “You’re the best.”
The bastard immediately starts struggling again.
“Easy.” I tighten my grip on his shoulder. “She’s in a perfectly good mood. Let’s not ruin that for both of us.”
I strip every talisman from around his neck before searching the rest of his jacket, pulling another handful from his pockets.
“…Jesus Christ.” I hold one up between two fingers. “Planning to decorate a Christmas tree with these?”
Another one.
Then another.
By the time I’m finished, I’ve got enough cursed jewelry stuffed into my jacket to open a very concerning Etsy shop.
“There.” I shove the last one into my pocket before giving his shoulder a light pat. “Congratulations. You’re officially the least useful person in this forest.”
Across the clearing, Damien’s attention lands on me for barely a second before dropping to the talismans disappearing into my jacket.
He doesn’t ask.
He simply nods.
“Finish it.” He commands into the radio.
Ryan moves before the last word leaves Damien’s mouth. Within seconds he’s climbing higher until I lose sight of him completely, and the first shot finds its mark almost immediately. A hunter trying to break for cover drops before he manages three more steps.
Archer circles wide without making enough noise to draw attention to himself, quietly sealing off the last direction anybody might’ve escaped.
Mihai and Apex don’t need telling twice. Whatever game they’d been playing is over. Now they move with the cold efficiency that probably explains why people are terrified of the Skullbound Legion in the first place.
Hunters who somehow survive the last several minutes suddenly don’t survive the next several seconds.
Some try regrouping, but Amara has other ideas.
The ground shifts beneath them, separating men who’d been standing shoulder to shoulder only moments before. Vines coil around ankles, fallen trunks become barriers that weren’t there before, and every route they choose somehow leads directly into another member of the Legion.
Turns out getting hunted isn’t nearly as enjoyable as doing the hunting.
The shooting doesn’t stop all at once. It simply becomes less frequent. One rifle goes quiet. Then another.
One final burst rattles across the hillside before everything falls still.
For the first time since this whole disaster started, I realize I can hear my own breathing again.
One by one they make their way back.
Mihai reaches me first, glancing once at the prisoner still pinned beneath Amara’s roots before looking at me.
“Told you this forest was a bad idea.” He lets out.
“Yeah, yeah.” I reply with a grin.
“I was right.”
“You’ll never let me forget it, will you?”
“Absolutely not.”
I sigh. “I wouldn’t either.”
Apex arrives next, his clothes carrying enough blood to make it obvious the last few minutes haven’t gone particularly well for anyone unfortunate enough to cross his path. The man himself, however, looks completely untouched.
I nod toward him.
“Beer’s still on me.”
He acknowledges me with the smallest incline of his head.
Ryan rejoins us a few moments later, slinging his rifle across his chest as he steps into the clearing, while Archer appears from the opposite direction almost at the same time. Neither of them says anything. They don’t need to. The fight is over. We all know it.
Damien is the last to arrive. His gaze settles on the prisoner first, then on the collection of talismans bulging inside my jacket before finally meeting mine.
I grin. “What? She helped.”
The roots around the hunter tighten ever so slightly.
“See?” I glance down. “My girlfriend’s very supportive.”