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6
Mercy
I shieldedmy eyes against the sun on the horizon. Evening was falling quickly, casting an ominous shade of orange across the scattered clouds as if foretelling horrible things to come.
Our first day out of the seven we had to drive the Storm’s people out of the Bend was almost over. I just had to hope it’d finish with a strong step in the right direction.
I took a deep breath as I looked below the steel railing that ran the length of the old Bailey Bridge. The river churned beneath our feet, and the wind made the girders groan. Next to me, Wylder checked the bullets in his gun and rubbed his fingers over the smooth metal surface of the muzzle. Rowan and Kaige stood nearby, and a huge force of Claws and Noble men was assembled around us.
We were staked out on either side of the bridge that led into the Bend, not the most popular route into the county but a shortcut to the interstate lines—one Gideon had discovered that the Storm’s transport company had frequently used before. He’d confirmed just a few minutes ago that the new truck was headed straight toward us.
As I watched the occasional car or truck zoom past us, I shifted from foot to foot restlessly. Anytime I spotted a vehicle approaching that looked remotely larger than a standard car, my pulse sped up. But unless the transport truck broke several rules of physics, it wouldn’t be here for about ten more minutes.
Rowan had turned to talk to the nearest Noble men. I watched him direct them to different strategic positions along the sides of the bridge where they could duck down out of sight behind the beams, ready to leap out the second we had the truck cornered. We had a truck of our own, albeit a smaller one, waiting for our signal at the other side of the bridge. The plan was all coming together.
“The anticipation is killing me,” Kaige muttered.
“I know it’s not your strong suit, but be patient,” Wylder said. “It’ll be better for us the darker it is once they get here.”
He was right. We’d have more shadows to hide us, more of a false sense of security for the Storm’s people. But I shared Kaige’s sentiment. I wanted to get this done.
Wylder clicked the pistol’s chamber into place and took aim at the distance. The dark water of the river looked almost ominous as it flowed past us below. A faintly fishy scent drifted up on the breeze. I wrinkled my nose.
“At least your dad came through,” I said, glancing back at the forces gathered behind us and offering my own people a nod. “We’ll overwhelm these assholes for sure.”
“He didn’t have much choice once we explained the situation to him well enough,” Wylder said, his voice going terse. “After everything that’s already gone down, it took hearing that we’d all be dead in seven days for him to finally get off his ass. I can’t believe that for all this time I thought he ruled things around here.”
“In a lot of ways, he did,” Rowan said as he rejoined us. “It’s not as if he knew the Long Night was siphoning off profits from his successful ventures.”
Wylder let out a disgruntled sound. “Either way, my dad is directly responsible for the mess we’ve got here now.”
“So is mine,” I said. I didn’t like acknowledging the role my father had played in the conflict, but I couldn’t deny it.
Wylder’s eyes flashed. “Maybe so. But tonight we begin our first step toward getting us back on the path we should be on.”
The headset he was wearing crackled. I faintly made out Gideon’s voice speaking into Wylder’s ear.
“Got it,” Wylder said, and swiveled to face the men, both those we could easily see and those disguised in the shadows. “The truck will be here in just a few minutes. Everyone’s in position, so just do the job you were given, and we’ll come out of this on top. The Storm fuckers don’t stand a chance. We want to destroy every man in that truck if we possibly can. They all die here.”
A low cheer passed through the assembled force. A shiver traveled down my back at the same time. I knew why that was the plan—any man left alive was one who might kill us in the future. But at the same time, my stomach clenched.
The people I’d killed before had already been attacking the Bend. The men arriving tonight had never set foot here before. We knew why they were coming—it wasn’t any mystery—and anyone working under the Storm was obviously a threat. But still, the thought of a full-out massacre reminded me a little too much of Colt and his men mowing down my family at our rehearsal dinner.
Wylder must have caught something in my expression. “You okay?” he asked me.
“Yeah,” I said nonchalantly. The shadows were rapidly gaining on us. The moon peeked out of the clouds overhead, its glowing face staring down at us. “We have to do what we have to do.”
“We wouldn’t need to go to these extremes if they hadn’t torn through the Bend first.”
“I know.” I let out my breath. “I’d better get intomyposition.”
Because I wasn’t as practiced with a gun as most of the men, my job was to hang back by the end of the bridge and pick off anyone who broke away from the pack and headed this way. I walked over to one of our cars that was parked a short distance away, which I was going to use for cover, and took out my gun. Leaning my elbows against the hood, I waited.
It barely seemed like a minute before the headlights of a huge truck appeared in the distance. Anticipation coiled in the pit of my stomach.
The last of the regular cars drove off the bridge. Two pickup trucks driven by Nobles roared onto the road, cutting off both lanes and blocking the transport truck’s route into the county.
The truck started to slow, and snipers, one of them from the Claws, popped up on either side of the girders. With silenced shots that were still loud enough to echo through the night, they blew out the tires on each side.
