Scout didn’t waver, gaze focused on the track, hands gripping the steering wheel like it was just another drive. They hit the halfway point, the trucks behind them already bouncing along, the entire bridge groaning from the strain. Ahead, the ties gave way to an open stretch of line, just that metal rail hanging above the abyss, the wood barely holding beneath the other side.
The vehicle slowed a fraction, the only indication Scout had any reservations about crossing the broken line, before she hit the gap, one set of tires riding the edge of the rail, the other squeaking across the slippery tie, sounding as if they might slip off if the wind blew a certain way.
She held firm, the interior sitting at an odd angle as the rubber gripped and released, slowing the SUV then boosting it ahead. The structure shook, something cracking behind them before she reached the end of the gap, slid back onto the creosote-slick ties.
Scout blew out a harsh breath, gaze flying to the rearview as she skidded onto the logging road, the trailing headlights casting her face in a white glow. Neve looked behind, judging how far across the trucks were by the way the light bounced along before the lead truck slipped sideways trying to shift onto the solid section, the back wheel sloughing into the opening.
The truck jerked to a halt, more wood cracking around them, one of the other ties dropping into the gap. The second truck veered in an effort to avoid a collision, the entire left side slipping off the rail, crashing into the metal with an ear-piercing screech. It landed cockeyed on the structure, headlights still burning, the engine growling as Scout punched the gas — left the bastards on the bridge.
Neve squeezed her friend’s arm. “Never doubted you.”
Scout rolled her eyes, crisscrossing onto three more branching paths, just in case, before jumping on the main line, heading for the bunker.
Coulter grunted in Neve’s lap, his eyelids slivering open. He blinked, stared up at her as if he’d seen a ghost, before licking his lips. “Neve?”
She leaned over him, cupping his jaw as she brushed his hair back from his forehead. “We’re almost home. Rest. I’ll explain everything once you’re back on your feet.”
He shook his head, tried to sit up, only to grunt and fall back as Wynn did her best to hold him still. “Can’t. Not safe… he…”
Neve bit at her bottom lip, Coulter’s obvious pain hitting her square in the chest. “Easy, baby. Don’t move. Not yet. You’re safe. For now.”
Another small shake, as if he knew anything more would knock him out. “No… He… Bastard has… has to pay.”
“Who has to pay?”
Coulter frowned. “Ramsey… He… You…”
He faded, eyes rolling back, his head slipping off to one side.
She looked up at Wynn, wondering if she’d chosen wrong. If the added time and shitty conditions had cost him his life.
Wynn checked his vitals, adding more dressings to his wounds. “He just passed out. But his heart rate’s more erratic than I’d like. I need him in a stable environment. Now.”
Neve glanced at Scout’s reflection, mouthing her thanks when Scout picked up the speed as much as possible. Zadie sent an encrypted message to Darwin, with just enough intel to know they were inbound with a casualty.
The rain eased, lessening to a light drizzle as they narrowed in on the cabin. Scout bypassed the driveway, continuing around the side and down two levels to the other entrance into the underground bunker. She parked the SUV inside a thermal-guarded shed, replacing the camo netting once Neve had Coulter slung between her and Wynn. They carried him over to the hidden entrance — a slab of metal that looked like a continuation of the surrounding rock — rushing inside as Darwin opened the door, the interior lighting cutting a swath through the darkness.
Shepherd helped them place Coulter on a gurney. She jogged beside him, hand still locked in his as Wynn pushed him into their med bay, then transferred him onto the main exam table.
The fluorescent lights emphasized the gray tone of Coulter’s skin, the way it didn’t bounce back when Darwin pinched the back of Coulter’s other hand. He glanced at her, brow arched, gaze lingering on their joined hands before she drew a breath, forced her fingers to lift from Coulter’s.
It felt wrong the moment their hands parted, as if she’d given him permission to fade, stepping back as Darwin and Wynn ran through some kind of checklist, the words lost to the shallow rasp of Coulter’s breath. For the first time since she’d met him, he looked too still for the man who’d always been larger than life.
She swallowed, gagging as the scent of cold rain and old copper bit through the air when Darwin cut through Coulter’s ruined tactical vest, exposing the massive bruises already blossoming across his chest.
Darwin didn’t blink, moving with a clinical speed that seemed almost jarring, his shadow stretching long against the sterile white tile as he took Coulter’s vitals, ran his fingers across the multiple injuries laced down Coulter’s torso.
He grabbed a portable ultrasound, ran it along Coulter’s chest. “Multiple kinetic impacts to his vest. Bruising is going to be deep, likely limiting his lung capacity, but nothing looks broken.” He moved over to his left side. “I’m more concerned about the shrapnel tracking under his arm. It doesn’t look too deep, but it needs to be removed and flushed. I’ll administer a round of antibiotics. God knows what the hell might have been inside that facility.”
He traded out a pair of bloody shears for a sterile probe, examining the graze on his leg while the monitors pumped out more vitals. “Core temperature is hovering around ninety. I need warming fluids and blankets before he slips any further. And grab a couple units of O neg.”
Neve inched closer, gaze locked on Coulter the remembered weight of his hand in hers nearly taking her to her knees. “But you can save him, right?”
Darwin paused for a moment, his focus flicking to her for one heart-stopping second. “Have a little faith, Neve. He’s in serious condition, but with the right treatment, he’ll pull through.”
The words washed over her like the rain had, cooling her skin until no amount of shivering helped. A hand landed on her shoulder, and she turned as Shepherd held out a dry hoodie, sweats, and a blanket. He crossed his arms, waiting until she slipped out of the worst of her clothes and donned the new, gathering the soaked gear in a basket.
She pulled the blanket tight, still standing at the edge of the light when a throat cleared behind her. She turned and eyed Gus as he stood in the doorway, hands fisted at his side, his gaze jumping between Coulter and her.
