47. Forty-Seven
My heart is trying to pound out of my chest. Every breath I take sharp and ragged as the three of us sprint through the bunker.
It’s Omni. They’re here for Madeline, and Tuck can’t protect her.
I have to find them.
She went to the East side. I know this. We all know this, but more and more I find myself questioning if she may have doubled back. Maybe Tucker suggested somewhere better. If someone grabbed her, and she’s already gone while we were wasting our time chasing down those three idiots, I’ll never forgive myself.
Fuck!
I want to kick and scream and tear down every one of these walls with my bare hands until the whole structure collapses around us.
How the hell did we miss this?
How the hell did we get so lazy, so relaxed, we stopped worrying about Omni and whatever plans they were putting together to retrieve their intellectual fucking property?
Silas is still ahead of us, not watching for doorways, barely checking corners as he barrels forward. There’s nothing and no one stopping him from getting to her.
God help anyone that steps in his path.
I still have my gun ready, running alongside Dane, checking each and every corner, whipping my head around to check our ass, making sure no one is tailing us back to her.
Silas rounds another corner, slipping out of view when he enters the dining hall. I don’t like having him out of my sight, not while he’s so erratic. Dane must feel the same way because we both drop into a full sprint, pushing our bodies to their breaking point.
The sound of a single gunshot rips through the panicked silence of my mind. I flinch and hurtle myself into the room, only to find that Silas shot one of the four men in the space.
They’re all too casual, all the same level of unprepared as the three we encountered earlier. One of them is sitting on the couch for fuck’s sake.
Makes sense, considering they’re here with Omni, and the laughable level of security at their supposedly “ultra-secure” facility. The remaining three are stunned, somehow still not sure what to do after seeing one of their men go down.
Another shot and another one of them drops to the floor, his blood a gruesome mist on the wall behind where he stood. Silas throws a single look over his shoulder before continuing on, directing us to finish the job while he pushes forward.
I train my gun on the less terrified of the two remaining and pull the trigger. It’s a clean shot, and he’s dead before his body even begins to crumple to the floor.
The last one crumples at the same time, one shot to the head and another two to the chest for good measure. Useless in this scenario, because of the bulletproof vest, but likely out of habit more than anything else for Dane.
My heart stops. Madeline’s screams are unlike anything I’ve ever heard. It’s not the scream track from a horror movie. The pain in her voice doesn’t come from standard fear. It’s brutal and gut wrenching, and I sprint towards it, not caring about any remaining untrained idiots in the bunker.
My gun isn’t raised, and I’m not even sure if I’m holding it anymore. The only thing that matters is getting to the source of that scream. Stopping it at whatever cost.
I trip turning another corner. My brain can’t move fast enough. Something happened. I continue running through the East side, my stomach churning.
The screams have stopped, and the bunker is silent.
She’s okay. She’s okay. She’s okay. Tucker’s okay. They’re both okay.
Okay, okay, okay.
The word ricochets inside of my mind, turning my brain into useless sludge as effectively as a hollow point. It’s the only thought my brain can form and the only thing keeping me from falling apart where I stand.
Silas is nowhere to be found, he probably turned deeper into the tunnels, checking the showers or the training center. I keep going, straight towards one of the other exits, praying with every bit of faith I’ve never had that she hasn’t been dragged out through the East hatch.
Door after door after door, none of them have any sign of Madeline or Tucker. None have any indication of a struggle or anything that would make her scream like that.
Until I hit one of the storage rooms, and I see blood.
So much blood.
Too much blood.
“Guys!”
I don’t know what else to yell, but I need them to know where I am. I need them to get here if something goes wrong and I go down. I need them.
Someone is moving in there, and I don’t hesitate, crossing the threshold and sinking one of my boots into the still growing puddle of blood.
I don’t look at the bodies, not for more than the singular second it takes for me to know neither of them belongs to the ones I love.
Then I see her.
And everything stops.
She looks feral. Her eyes are wild, looking at me as if I’m a threat, like at any point I could reveal myself to be one of Omni’s men and rush her.
Her face, her clothes, her skin, every inch of her is covered in blood.
She’s clutching her knife with everything she’s got, but she’s trembling. The blade shakes as she holds it out in front of her, pointed directly at me.
I see it cross her face, the recognition, the realization it’s me. That she’s safe. That she no longer has to fight for her life.
Then I see she’s shielding a body behind her.
Her face crumples and her legs give out.
As quickly as I try to move, I can’t catch her. I can’t support her on her way down. A wracking, sputtering sob overtakes her frame, but I can’t help her right now. I can’t give her the comfort my body screams at me to provide.
I’m on Tuck in a second, stupidly wishing he was the one to find this unconscious form, not me. Not some idiot quickly spiraling into panic.
“Shit.” Dane’s voice is behind me, still in the threshold, followed by Silas’ heavy footfalls stopping short as soon as he gets into the room.
He’s not breathing.
Tucker’s not breathing, and I can’t find a pulse. There’s a fucking bruise around his goddamn throat like someone choked him to death. I glance at the mutilated body further in the room, rage burning through my veins, but I can’t focus on the anger. I won’t let those thoughts sink in and pull me under. I refuse to let it happen.
I start chest compressions, desperately trying to beat the life back into him. He can’t die. I won’t let him. I won’t let him die and leave me here without him. Non-negotiable.
What the fuck is the pattern?
How do I do this right? How many times do I have to pump his chest before I give him breath?
His ribs crack beneath my hands, and I release a wordless, agonized shout. The sound of his breaking body is never going to leave my mind.
I stop, only long enough to bring my mouth to his and force air into his lungs.
I stare down at him, waiting for the big ass breath of life like in the movies.
Nothing. Still nothing. No sign of life, and I’m losing the fight against my panic. I hear movement behind me, but none of it matters. Nothing matters if I can’t get this asshole’s heart to start beating. If I can’t get him to breathe.
I check for a pulse again, still nothing. His lips are blue. The color of his face is so pale and so wrong.
“Fuck!”
Again.
I start again. More compressions. Another crack. Another breath into his mouth.
Repeat.
Repeat.
Repeat.
“Ray…”
A hand closes around my arm, and I don’t know who it is. I don’t stop to find out, shrugging it off and checking for a pulse again.
Is that something?I can’t tell. My own heart is ready to pound out of my chest and every part of me feels on fire.
I feel for his breath and still nothing. How long have I been doing this? How much longer is it going to take before this body below me is Tucker again?
“Rayner,” Dane says my name, my fucking name again, in that tone. That I’m so sorry tone.
Again.
Again.
Again.
I’m not stopping. I don’t care how many times they try to pull me away. I’m not giving up on him.
I push air into his lungs again and hold myself above his chest, my heart in my throat.
A breath! I felt a breath, I’m sure of it. I stop, waiting, begging whatever force is out there to listen to me, to give me this one thing.
It feels like an eternity passes when I take my hands off his chest and watch him, watch for the sign of life I know is there.
The smallest movement, the shallowest breath, and my entire body threatens to collapse on top of him. He’s got a fighting shot. Relief floods into me so strongly it feels like I’ve been launched out of my own body.
“Hospital. Now!” I turn to shout the words and see three stunned faces. “Go! I’m not losing him!”
The nearest hospital is an hour away. If he crashes again, I’ll keep it going. I’ll give him CPR the whole way there, but this is it. He’s going to be okay.