Page 41 of Flawed Revenge

Someone who might be able to help him get to Kate. Get to Ariella. Make sure they were okay. If he were dying, he wouldn't fight it, so long as he could ensure his girls were okay first.

“Outside,” someone else said.

“Must have gone through this hole in the wall,” another person added.

Softer, more muffled voices spoke, but he couldn’t make out the words through the rushing in his ears. It was like water, but he wasn't wet, so they hadn't crashed into the ocean, or a lake or a river.

Whatever strength he had left was fading fast.

The world pulsed in and out of focus around him.

Despite his need to get to his girls, he couldn’t seem to fight through the fog. Couldn’t get his body to cooperate.

Still, if he couldn’t stand and he couldn’t crawl, then he’d drag himself along on his stomach. Digging his fingers into the dirt, he dragged. And dragged. And dragged.

Seconds felt like eternity, and while he would never give up, he was starting to lose hope that he could get back inside that plane and find his girls.

Then there were boots.

Black ones.

Three sets.

Running across the ground toward them.

Threats?

His vision was too blurry to make anything out, and even if they were River Gardner’s people coming to get them, there was nothing he could do to protect either himself, his girls, or his team.

Failure.

Lion reached for his weapon, determined to do something even if it wasn't much. Maybe a split second would be enough to save the people in the plane if he could get off a shot.

But there was no weapon to grab. He must have lost it in the crash.

“Hey, man, you're okay,” someone said. No, not someone. Voodoo.

“Is he?” Blade asked. “Because he doesn’t look it.”

“You can hear him breathing,” Voodoo reminded their teammate. “He has a nasty concussion. Can you hear me, Lion?”

“Yeah,” he managed to croak, blinking in an attempt to clear his vision. “Kate? Ariella?” They were what he cared about right now, not the blinding pain between his temples.

“Both alive. Ariella was unconscious, but she’s woken up. We’re working to get her clotting. She has a bang on her head, too, but it’s not as bad as yours,” Voodoo explained.

“And Kate?”

“Broken ribs, but she’s conscious and worried about her daughter and you,” Voodoo replied.

Alive.

Relief rushed through his system.

His girls were alive, injured, but there was no way they could have survived the crash without at least some bumps and bruises. They weren't dying, and it seemed like he wasn't either, although the concussion was making him think death couldn’t be such a terrible alternative.

Voodoo said something else.

Or maybe it was Blade.