Chapter 4
Russ
The truck tore across the desert road hard enough to rattle teeth.
Metal groaned beneath my boots as we hit another rut. The tailgate slammed against its hinges. Dust rolled through the open bed in thick clouds, coating my tongue with grit.
Lucas pushed the engine harder.
Too hard.
But slowing down wasn’t an option.
I twisted at the waist and looked back down the road.
Headlights.
Two sets.
No—
Three.
They cut through the dark fast and straight, eating up the distance behind us.
“They’re gaining,” I growled.
I braced against the side rail, lifted my rifle, and squeezed off two rounds.
The muzzle flash lit the darkness for half a second.
One windshield exploded.
Glass sprayed into the air.
The vehicle swerved—
Then corrected.
Still coming.
“Lucas!” I barked.
“Trying to lose them!” he yelled from the cab.
The truck fishtailed hard left.
A scream ripped through the truck bed.
Children tumbled sideways. One of the mothers slammed into the wall with a cry.
And Olivia moved before anyone else did.
She caught a little boy by the shirt before he hit the metal floor. Her shoulder slammed into the side of the truck instead, but she barely reacted. She shoved herself back upright, grabbing for the next child as the truck bounced again.
“It’s okay,” she said, breathless, pulling a crying girl against her chest. “Look at me, sweetheart. You’re okay.”
The girl buried her face against Olivia’s shirt.
Olivia’s voice trembled.
Her hands didn’t.
Another burst of gunfire cracked behind us.
Rounds chewed into the dirt beside the truck.
One slammed into the tailgate with a deafening bang.
The children screamed.
“What is happening?” Olivia shouted over the chaos.
“Bad guys with commitment issues,” I muttered, firing again.
The recoil punched into my shoulder.
One of the pursuing trucks veered sideways, tires throwing gravel into the air.
Didn’t stop them.
Didn’t even slow them down much.
The engine roared louder as Lucas shoved us over uneven terrain. The truck launched over a ridge hard enough to throw everyone airborne for half a second.
A small boy cried out.
Olivia dropped instantly over him, shielding his body with hers before he hit the floor.
My jaw tightened.
Most people ducked when bullets started flying.
Protected themselves first.
Not her.
Her body curled tighter around that kid as another round punched through the truck wall inches away.
She didn’t even notice.
Or maybe she did.
Maybe she just didn’t care.
And that—
That was dangerous.
I fired another burst toward the headlights.
“Hang on!” Lucas shouted.
The truck jerked violently off the road.
We slammed into rough desert hills.
Everything shook.
Metal rattled.
Children cried harder.
Gunfire echoed behind us for another few seconds—
Then faded.
The headlights disappeared behind the hills.
For now.
I kept my weapon trained on the darkness another beat before climbing fully into the truck bed.
The truck bounced beneath my boots as I crossed toward Olivia.
She sat against the side wall with the little girl still tucked against her chest. Dust streaked her face. Blood spotted one sleeve where she’d scraped her arm raw against the metal siding.
She hadn’t even noticed that either.
“Hey.”
My hand closed around her forearm.
Not hard.
Just enough.
Her gaze snapped to mine instantly.
There it was.
That tiny fracture in her composure.
Fear.
Not for herself.
For every person in this truck except herself.
“You still with me?” I asked.
She nodded too quickly. “I’m fine.”
A lie.
Small.
Automatic.
The little girl clung tighter to her shirt.
Olivia smoothed trembling fingers through the child’s hair anyway.
“I’m doing everything I can,” she said quietly.
“I know.”
Her eyes lifted to mine again.
The truck hit another bump, but neither of us looked away.
“You keep them breathing,” I said. “I’ll deal with everything outside this truck.”
Her throat moved as she swallowed.
Gunfire echoed faintly somewhere in the distance.
Too far to hit us now.
Close enough to remind us this wasn’t over.
“Understood?” I asked.
For half a second, she looked exhausted enough to break apart right there in front of me.
Then she pulled it back in.
Locked it down tight.
“Understood.”
The doctor’s voice returned.
Steady.
Controlled.
Like the crack I’d seen never existed.
But I saw it.
And somehow that bothered me more than the bullets.
I released her arm and moved back toward the edge of the truck, scanning the darkness again.
Behind me, Olivia murmured softly to the children.
Calm.
Gentle.
Like she could hold the whole world together with nothing but her voice.
My grip tightened around my rifle.
Because if that part of her shattered—
I already knew I wasn’t walking away from it.