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“No. I’m not running. I’m done running. I’m done being scared and powerless. There is nothing you can say or do that will change my mind. If you try to make me run, I will run towards them.”
“Fuck!” Cursing, he brakes harshly at the end of the trail.
He kills the lights before he drives into a cluster of trees and bushes.
“Ryan’s going to surprise them from behind. He’ll get them before they make it this far, but if he doesn’t, we need a solid plan.”
Rule number one, Trouble, always find a vantage point.
“We need a vantage point.”
Lucian looks me over before getting out of the car. I follow suit, noticing the way he blends in with the shadows. His movements are streamlined and minimal, much like Casper’s. Even the way he holds his firearm is almost identical.
Careful not to make unnecessary noise, I stick to the canopy of the bigger trees. Another thing that Casper taught. Bigger trees have less debris beneath them. Their branches are longer, keeping the soil damp enough to soften any dry leaves and twigs that fall around them.
The Glock in my hand feels lighter by the second. My hammering pulse is slowing as I listen to the sounds around us. All muted and in harmony with the surroundings.
A low rustle has me rounding the thick trunk shielding me. In my peripheral vision, I see Lucian move between trees. Another rustle, closer this time, makes me turn once more, rounding my shelter as I follow the direction of the noise.
Don’t be hasty. Take your time.
I swallow down the urge to jump out and break fire. My blood is boiling through my veins. My mouth is dry, and my eyes are burning with the need to blink.
Don’t move, unless you have to. Don’t blink. Never take your eyes off your surroundings. You are never safe until you’ve taken the danger out.
Inhaling quietly through my mouth, I hold the breath for a few counts, letting it out slowly on the fourth.
Take your time.
A branch breaks underfoot. My gaze darts to where Lucian is concealed in the shadow of a tall oak, a eucalyptus, and conifer. The moss-covered ground at his feet is clear.
Raising his weapon, he shakes his head at me. I take in another deep breath.
Four. Three. Two.
I start to let it out when the first shot sounds. It echoes through me with the sharpness of a well-kept blade. My thoughts threaten to swamp me. A memory I will never forget.
One shot, trouble, that’s all you get. One shot. A surprise. After that it’s war.
A low whistle sounds from across the trail, a distraction that has Lucian lunging forward, shot after shot after shot breaking the peace.
There’s no guarantee in war. Make that shot count, trouble.
I peer from behind my shelter as another round of shots breaks from the direction of the whistle. Panicked voices shout and screech in the silent aftermath.
Lucian’s vantage point is surrounded, and as I’m about to step back to take one last breath, dark eyes meet mine.
I’m breathless for one strike of a second before I shoot. Blood spatters as the bullet rips through the side of the man’s neck, spurting as he drops to the ground awkwardly with a crunch of his neck.
&
nbsp; Eyes blink maniacally, limbs spasm, and then the gurgling stops. It’s quiet again as footsteps rustle towards me.
A paralysing stab gets me across my side. I can’t move. My legs tense, and I have to hold myself up against the tree.
Move! Move, Trouble. Move! Never stop. Your vantage point only holds its advantage until your first shot. Move!
I fall on all fours, crawling into the nearest bush. The pain pulses and tightens and robs me of all my breath and strength.
