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Trip was waiting outside what looked like a packed van. Were he and Cage the last ones back? That couldn’t be possible.
“Thought we were gonna have to send a search party for you,” Trip called out as they approached.
Because of the six-year-old’s short legs and also the mother being barefoot, they had moved much slower down the dirt lanes and paths than Whip wanted. He knew time was getting extremely tight, even though he hadn’t had a chance to check the timer on his phone or for any texts. He needed both hands to carry the four-year-old so he didn’t drop him in case Whip tripped or slid in mud or wet leaves. The boy might be on the small side but he got really fucking heavy, really quickly.
It didn’t help that he was far from in shape, unlike the Shadows.
“How much time we got?” Cage called out, pulling the mother toward the van’s open side door.
“Not much. We need to jet,” Trip answered.
“We hitchin’ a ride down the mountain in the van or we hoofin’ it?” Cage asked.
Trip shook his head. “Not enough room in the van for all of us and we’re still missin’ Scar. He ain’t back yet.”
Whip frowned. “Thought he was with Bones.”
“He was, but they got separated somehow.”
Trip did not look happy about that fact. The teams were supposed to stick together.
Beside him, Cage asked Trip, “Where’s Bones?”
“Already sent him down the mountain to grab our van and drive it up here. He’s gonna pick us up so we can get the fuck out of here.”
Whip glanced around. “Who else we missin’?”
“No one. Dutch and Sig already left with Red’s brother Ezrah and his two younger siblin’s. Once they drop off the kids, they’re headed over to Pete’s.”
The plan was to drop off Red’s half-siblings with her and Saylor. The women were to be waiting in a vehicle behind Dutch’s Garage. Whip had no idea what would happen with those kids from there, but he was sure it was all figured out.
“Where the fuck is that asshole?” Rook yelled, pacing next to the van.
“Texted him a few times already. No answer,” Judge growled. “You sponsored him, he’s your fuckin’ responsibility.”
“And I regret every fuckin’ second of it,” Rook growled back.
“He’s supposed to be drivin’ the van to Ohio with Castle,” Trip said.
“If I gotta go find him, I’m droppin’ him right where he stands,” Rook threatened.
“Then you ain’t findin’ him.” Trip shook his head. “For fuck’s sake.”
“We got all the women and children in the van?” Shade asked. “Anyone do a head count yet?”
“Supposed to be six women and thirteen kids,” Judge reminded them.
Even in the dark, Whip could see the windows had been blacked out. Someone had come prepared. Most likely Easy had done it while he waited for the first of the “cargo” to arrive.
“Someone do a quick head count while we wait for the prospect. We gotta make sure all the women and children are accounted for before we head out, anyway,” Trip said. “We ain’t leavin’ anyone still breathin’ behind.”
“I got it,” Deacon yelled, moving to the other side of the van where the sliding door was still hanging open.
“Can’t tell who’s uglier, that Mercy guy or Scar. They’d be in a fuckin’ run-off,” Cage grumbled next to him.
“Wouldn’t say that too loud, brother,” Whip warned him. “You never know if he’s hidin’ in the shadows.”
“Who? That dumb fuck Scar?”
“No, Mercy.”
Cage’s head swiveled around as he searched the area. “Shit.”
“They’re probably called Shadows for a reason,” Whip warned him. “They lurk in the fuckin’ shadows and you don’t know what hit you ’til it’s too late.” He drew his finger over his throat in a slicing motion.
“Scar’s much uglier,” Cage said a little too loudly. “Much fuckin’ uglier. That scar Mercy has is badass.”
Whip smothered his snort. “You see your life flash before your eyes?”
“Saw my life and my fuckin’ afterlife flash before my eyes.”
Deacon came around the front of the van to where the rest of them had gathered. “Six women, nine kids.”
“Supposed to be ten in the van,” Judge informed his cousin.
“Counted the rug rats twice to be sure.”
“Fuck,” Trip muttered, scrubbing at his beard.
Deke shrugged. “Scar’s probably bringin’ down the last one.”
“He better hurry the fuck up,” Judge growled.
“If he didn’t have one of the kids with him, I wouldn’t give a fuck about leavin’ him behind. He can take care of himself and knows the deal. ‘Cause he might have one of the kids, I do. Jesus fuckin’ Christ.” Trip flipped off his baseball cap and ripped his fingers through his hair. “For fuckin’ once, I’d like somethin’ to go smoothly.” He slapped his hat back on and squeezed the bill so tightly it creased.
The prez’s agitation was building with every damn second that passed. He could explode at any minute just like Hillbilly Hill.
