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“Ready?” I ask.
Kat shifts both hands on her gun and nods. “So ready.”
God, I love this woman. Shorts, tank top, barefoot, and with a gun—it’s my new kinky fantasy.
We are getting the fuck out of here. I latch the door behind us, dump the radios, and we creep up the dim stairs, lit by a bulb, and pause by what looks like a trap door at the top of the stairs.
“We are underground,” Kat whispers.
“Yeah.”
There are muffled voices outside. I flip the switch by the door, and we sink into darkness.
Slowly, like a thief, I push up on the door, opening it just an inch.
It’s not much brighter outside—night, I realize, which means it’s either the same night we were taken or probably a day later. The voices are quite far away, coming from about forty feet where there’s a glow of a fire.
I lift the door another inch or so.
“There are two people,” I whisper. “No, three. I don’t see guns, but I’m sure they have them.” I scan the area around as much as I can without lifting the trap door higher. “A truck parked to the right,” I say, even though Kat is right next to me, squinting through the opening.
“Barracks or tents to the left,” she whispers. “This is not Port Mrei, is it?”
“Hard to say. We could be in a backyard. Shh.” I listen for some time, but there’s no noise around. “Doesn’t sound like the town though.”
“There are only three of them but might be many more in those barracks or sheds or whatever those are,” Kat says. “We’ll have to move fast.”
“Yes. We only get several seconds before they can grab their guns.”
“So. Shooting or fighting?”
“If we shoot and there are more of them, we’re fucked. If we fight, we have to do it fast and run.”
“Right.”
I’d never thought it’d come down to this in my life. More so, that I’d be in a situation like this with a woman. But what a woman!
I look at Kat, gauging her state, but she looks like she was born for situations like this.
“I’ll take the two on the left,” I say. “You take the one on the right.” I calculate the course of actions in my head. “We have several seconds to emerge before they realize we’re not their buddies. Tell me when you are ready.”
She exhales loudly through her mouth, then leans over, confusing me for a second before I realize she’s giving me a peck on my cheek.
“Ready,” she whispers.
“Okay, slowly.”
I hold the trap door above me as we start crawling out onto the dusty ground.
My eyes are on the thugs who chat and drink by the fire and don’t notice us. Not even when we are out of the bunker and I slowly close the door. Not when we take careful steps through the darkness toward them.
Only when one of them turns his head in our direction, I bark, “Now!” And Kat and I dart toward them.
We reach them before they find their guns. I smash one in the face with the handle of my gun with a force that sends him sagging onto the ground, then slam into the other one, who trips on the fire pit, falls, and I smash his head several times before his low grunt quiets.
I spin around to see Kat sitting on her haunches next to the third guy, lifeless on the ground, a vague smile on her face.
“C’mon.” I motion toward the darkness behind the barracks.
