30. Easton

Chapter thirty

Easton

T he seconds after any explosion are pure chaos.

It's like time stops–my body, my reactions are painfully slow, but everything around me is moving at a double pace. I clutch Emily's body to mine as I try to yell orders to the driver. The car in front of us is destroyed. I can't remember who was in it, but thankfully, Tracey and my brothers are two cars back. No one can hear anything–my ears are ringing, everyone's are ringing–but we've practiced this before. Hell, we've been hit like this before.

Our driver floors it, moving around the mangled vehicle, until we are stopped in front of the main doors. Men are at the door instantly, pulling Emily from the car as soon as it stops. Someone tries to take her from me, but I pick her up in my arms and race up the steps into the house after them, while trying to take stock of what's going on.

My ears won't stop ringing.

Everyone's moving in a million different directions. "Who was in the first vehicle?" I yell to no one in particular.

Daniel's at my side, handing me a rifle. "They haven't finished the roll call yet," he yells so I can hear him. "Give them another minute and they should have it ready for you."

Samuel is pulling up images on the various surveillance cameras to get a visual on what's going on.

My thoughts instantly go back to Emily. I look around and find her leaning against Tracey. There's something off about the look on her face.

"What's wrong?" I'm sure I'm yelling, but I can barely hear myself. I put my hands on her cheeks and look her in the eyes. "Are you hurt?"

"My water broke," she says. It's not loud enough for me to hear, but I can read her lips. It takes a long moment for my brain to focus. "YOUR WATER brOKE?" I repeat, much too loudly.

Everyone in the foyer stops to stare at us. "We have to get you to the hospital."

Tracey shakes her head. "Take care of the Andreevs first," she yells.

"How do you know it's them?"

She gives me a scathing look. "Seriously? Who else would it be? Besides, they ran off the cats."

Gunfire interrupts our conversation. Emily's fingers dig into my lapels as fear fills her eyes. "Samuel, I need a weapon," Tracey calls. He brings her a Glock and helps her into the holster before she leads Emily away.

"I'll be fine, Easton. Take care of what you need to." Emily squeezes my hand as Tracey drags her off to her suite.

The gun fire starts up again, just as Samuel orders men to the roof, submachine guns in their arms.

"We need to get the cats back over here," Daniel is saying.

"You have a plan?"

He nods.

"Good. Don't do anything stupid out there," I tell him as he pulls a rifle over his shoulder and disappears down the hall out toward the back of the house.

The gunfire starts up again, but this time, return fire comes from above.

"We have small groups coming from the north, south, and east. No one from the west," a voice calls out.

"The cats headed west," someone replies.

"Easton, Easton!" Samuel shakes my shoulder and pulls me to the surveillance. "They're fucking with us. They're just shooting indirect fire, like they've got someone else on the ground pushing forward." Samuel skips through camera views. There's nothing in any of them until the very last one–the one that faces the back garden closest to Emily's room. The end of a furry body, attached to a long tail, scurries off out of sight as he flicks through to get to those garden cameras.

"There." I click back to the cameras around her garden and zoom in. There, in the furthest corners, under the fussiest greenery, I see them–rats. It's a literal army of them. They're everywhere, tails flicking and waiting…for something.

Thankfully, a plan forms quickly in my mind. "We need to head out through my office. We can flank them from both sides–"

A gunshot rings out from down the hall. There's a pause and then Tracey yells, "I don't care if we have an entire army outside! Someone better come in here and get these motherfucking rats out of this room right now."