“Pineapple Pizza!” I say triumphantly, and Hudson’s face changes from suspicion to disbelief.
“How do you know my aunt?” He looks between us. “You don’t look like the doctors from her work.”
“I’m gonna give it to you straight, Hudson.” I sigh, running a hand through my hair. “We don’t work with your aunt. Sheactually sent us because there are people trying to keep her in line by threatening to hurt you. We’re going to keep you safe by taking you away from here.”
Hudson pales, shaking his head. “No. Aunt Leslie would tell me if—”
“Incoming!” Roland’s voice comes in panicked through my ear. “Three armed men, coming from the opposite side of the street.”
“Fuck,” Fuzzy mutters. “Kid, if you don’t come now, you’re gonna see some shit you wish you didn’t have to see.”
“Like what?”
Leaves crunch behind me, and I sigh, drawing my gun quickly and shooting at one of the men who came around the side of the house.
The time for dart guns has passed.
My bullet rips through his skull, and he drops to the ground like a sack of lead. “Like that!” I crouch low as the other two start shooting.
“Fuck, fuck!” I make a split-second decision.
Tossing Fuzzy my gun, I lunge for the kid, who yelps in surprise when I throw him over my shoulder. “Cover me!” I shout, and then take off at a sprint. He can’t be more than ninety pounds, but it’s been years since I’ve had to treat a preteen like a sack of potatoes to save their life.
Shots go off behind me as I huff, running for the van as fast as I can. “Roland, start the van!”
“Why are they trying to kill us?!” Hudson shouts over the gunfire, but I can’t answer. My breathing is labored when I finally reach the van and throw the door open. Tossing the kid inside, I grab my favorite weapon from its hiding spot.
My trusty grenade launcher.
All hope of being inconspicuous has gone out the window anyway.
I put the launcher on my shoulder, aiming for the two men who are trying to shoot at Fuzzy.
“Move!” The word tears out of my throat, and in the next second, Fuzzy is leaping out of the way landing in some neighboring bushes. Bullets fly past me as I pull the trigger, and when the grenade hits the ground in front of the men, it explodes, sending them backward.
“Whoa…” I turn to see Hudson staring at me in awe. “You’re really cool for an old guy.”
I snort at the same time Roland laughs. “He’s not old.”
Those words do something to me that they shouldn’t. “You can’t say that,” I chuckle dryly. “My son is only ten years younger than you.”
Roland grins, shooting me a wink. “Yeah, but I’m about to be a grandpa, so…”
Fuzzy claps my shoulder. “They’re dead. Let’s go.”
Taking a deep breath, I nod. Time to let the other teams know it’s safe to proceed.
thirty-eight
Jo
5:50 p.m.
West chuckles as he forwards the proof-of-safety picture that Ozzy just sent to Leslie.
“What?” I ask, leaning forward in my seat. West tilts his screen to me, showing me the photo. It shows Fuzzy, Ozzy, Roland, and a child that must be Hudson, sticking out their tongues and flipping off the camera.
I snort.
