Lucas.
He yanks me hard back behind cover as bullets tear across the open ground where I was standing seconds earlier.
“NO!” I shove against him violently.
“You go now, you die!” he snaps back.
“I’m not leaving her!”
His grip tightens harder. “You rush them now, you lose everybody!”
“I don’t care!”
Lie.
I care.
That’s the problem.
Lucas grabs my vest hard enough to force me to look at him.
“You die here,” he growls, “and you never get her back.”
That stops me cold.
Just long enough.
Just one second too long.
Because behind him—
Vehicle doors slam shut.
Engines roar.
“No.”
The word leaves me quietly.
Disbelieving.
I break free instantly and sprint forward again, firing toward the convoy as the tires spin across the dirt.
Too late.
Way too late.
The vehicles tear out of the canyon fast, dust exploding behind them while bullets from Clay and Miles spark uselessly off metal.
Gone.
Taking her with them.
Silence crashes down afterward so hard it feels violent.
I stop moving.
Breathing rough.
