Chapter 23 #2
Skidding to a stop, I watched as Ricochet, Hellfire, and Priest came running out of the darkness. We met up and I quickly relayed where the others were.
* * *
Motioning as we ducked behind a building, I pointed out the six men as they made their way toward the vehicles.
Ethan had his typical guards, Bruce and Jacob, as well as a trio of others trailing behind.
I couldn’t tell who they were in the darkness, nor did I care.
My focus was that slimy fucker who was trying to make his escape.
It was time to cut the head off the snake.
Anything less meant Ethan would disappear and start a new cult. We couldn’t allow that to happen.
“Lead the way, Rip,” Hellfire told me in a low voice. “We’ve got your back.”
The others nodded in agreement, so I made a beeline for the men, hellbent on stopping their escape. They were maybe two hundred yards away, but we had to hurry or they’d end up getting into Jacob’s truck and we’d be fucked.
I didn’t need to keep a close eye on my guys.
Didn’t need to see their faces to distinguish my brothers from each other as we moved through the shadows.
Their movements alone were enough to differentiate so that I knew who was where, as we ran toward our targets.
Getting separated and coming back together as we took out stray guards and men wasn’t a hindrance.
We’d trained and fought together enough that we knew each other no matter the circumstances.
The darkness had been lit up with a glow by a few burning buildings, but it was still making it harder on Ethan and his crew as they stumbled along.
They weren’t used to slinking around in the inky blackness.
Weren’t used to fighting for their lives.
Ethan’s panic was beginning to overtake him.
His head darted around as he searched the night for signs of us.
The only reason he’d made it this far was Jacob and Bruce.
We came to a stop as close as we dared, Ricochet and Hellfire veering off to our left, leaving me and Priest covering the right side.
Walking directly to them would be too dangerous.
Bruce was no slouch when it came to his weapon, not like the other men here.
Something told me Jacob was just as deadly.
Ricochet and Hellfire were taking aim at Ethan.
I could see them just on the other side of a stack of crates.
Someone had started up Jacob’s truck and the headlights bathed them with golden light.
I ground my teeth together as the trio of extra guards broke off and made their way toward my brothers.
My feet felt like lead weights as I moved, trying to intercept them before they had a chance to get my brothers in their sights.
Watching as though it were playing in slow motion as I ran forward, Ricochet turned toward them, then hesitated. I tried to raise my rifle, it was heavy in my hands. I wasn’t fast enough. Didn’t have enough time. My heart raced as I called out to my brother, fear icing the blood in my veins.
Ricochet watched them, unmoving. What the fuck was he doing?
Move. Fight. Do something! I mentally screamed it at him, not willing to shout out loud because I needed all my breath to get to him in time. I still knew I’d be too late.
They began to fire. One of the crates splintering next to Ricochet seemed to snap him out of his trance, but not in time.
One of the rounds struck Hellfire, he tumbled back and fell.
My voice was hoarse as I yelled Hell’s name.
Ricochet moved forward, fury on his face as he shot round after round.
He kept firing until the trio were down, blood staining the ground, illuminated by the glow of the headlights.
I closed the rest of the distance, running past the bodies straight to Hellfire.
Skidding on the ground on my knees, I slid to a stop near his prone body.
He turned his head, tensing until he saw that it was me.
“I’m good, I’m good,” he growled, clutching his shoulder.
Pain was etched into his features, but he was breathing.
Kneeling next to him, I did a quick survey. Relief rolled over me. He’d live. “Like hell you are,” I said anyway, “another inch and it would be through your heart.”
“But it’s not, I’m good, just…” He was cut off by Ricochet.
“Not again, God dammit, not again!” The words were like the howl of a wounded animal, echoing through the compound.
I turned to see Ricochet standing over the bodies.
He was looking from them to Hellfire and back.
Priest had been running to him, but his gait slowed and he stared down at the gunmen, horror etched on his face.
He glanced over at our grief stricken brother as he stood over the bodies, unsure how to help him.
“Go help them,” Hell gasped. He struggled into a seated position, but otherwise seemed fine. Picking up his weapon and putting it into his hands, I left him behind the cover of the crates and ran toward the others.
Now that I was closer, my suspicion was confirmed. There was only one reason Ricochet would be losing control like he was. He was pacing back and forth, agitation clear in his body language as he broke down.
There’d been a reason I’d recognized the trio of gunmen as I started over.
They were kids. The fact that Ethan and the others had them out here was evil, pure and simple.
They shouldn’t have been here. They should have been with Sloane and the others.
Should still be innocent in the ways of the world.
Ethan had turned them early, made them his child soldiers.
My heart sank, breaking for Ricochet. None of us ever wanted to hurt children, but it had been a case of them or us.
They would have happily killed us where we stood.
Unfortunately, it’d been Ricochet to pull the trigger.
This wasn’t the first time for him and it wasn’t going to help his already fucked up mental state that this happened.
I wanted to pull him into a hug, show him that he wasn’t alone in this. Desire to turn back the clocks and make it so that I was the one who’d been standing there instead of him nearly overwhelmed me. I’d do anything to help Ricochet out, but first I had to get to him.
We approached slow and cautious. Ricochet had a habit of losing himself in the past when he went berserker and I knew it was coming. The last thing I wanted was for him to attack us. I reached out a hand even though we were too far away and called his name. He didn’t respond.
Sloane had warned me not to go to these particular kids to try to convince them to come with us.
She’d told me they were already too far gone to save, that they’d turn us over to Ethan in a heartbeat.
The three kids idolized Jacob, according to her, and seeing them out here confirmed that she’d been right.
Two were teenagers—brothers named John and Jarrett—and the third was Barclay’s son.
Gary had barely turned ten years old. Kids carrying rifles were no less dangerous than adults, as Hellfire's wounds would attest to. That wasn’t going to matter to Ricochet. Not after everything he’d been through.
Priest and I were still moving toward him when Ricochet screamed into the night sky, a broken, horrific sound, then took off after Ethan.
“Shit!” I yelled, fear coursing through me. If we lost Ricochet, I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself. The kid deserved a fucking break and I’d just led him directly into his own worst nightmare. Fury and fear were thick in my chest as I tried to call him back. “Ricochet wait!”
“Shit. Poor kid,” Priest said, sadness filling his eyes.
Ricochet was the youngest of us and we all were protective of him.
He’d been hurting for so long now, it was slowly eating away at us all.
We just wanted to help him. Make him realize he wasn’t alone.
That we’d die for him. Priest started to take off after him.
Grabbing his shoulder, I hauled him to a stop. “We can’t leave Hell alone. Not injured. Stay with him. I’ll take care of Ricochet.”
Everything slowed as I looked over at our injured brother.
I hated to leave him, but Ricochet had just gone into berserker mode.
If I didn’t get to him…well, I had to get to him.
There was no other alternative. Him losing control this badly had only happened one other time, and it was why he’d been discharged at only twenty-four years old, but he’d been slowly losing control more and more lately.
He’d finally snapped tonight. What’d happened back then hadn’t been his fault, so he’d been honorably discharged, but it’d halted his career and fucked his mind up. He was still dealing with the fallout.
We all were. We did everything we could to help him, but nothing seemed to work. It fucking killed me to watch him battle his demons every day. I’d take them away if I could, beat back the pain and sadness for him.
Priest and I split and I ran after Ricochet.
My ears were ringing, whether from all the gunfire or the worry that I wouldn’t make it to my brother in time.
I knew if I found him, I’d find Ethan. I didn’t blame Ricochet, I was bitter and pissed off and I hadn’t even been the one to end the lives of those kids.
Ethan had brought them out here hoping they’d be enough of a decoy to give him time to get away.
Hiding behind kids was the lowest form of cowardice.
It would have fucking worked, too, if we’d been able to tell in the darkness that they were fucking kids.