Chapter Thirty-Three

Collin

“They pulled into an office park,” Amber said through the speakerphone. “Weird. It looks like there’s a bunch of people here. This isn’t remote at all.”

“We’re still a ways from the exit,” Luke said. “Just keep an eye on her as best you can. Do you know where Owen is?”

“He’s behind us,” Charlotte said. “He just pulled in.”

“And you don’t think she spotted you?”

“I don’t think so,” Amber said. “We hung back quite a ways.”

“I’m hitting the gas,” Luke said. “If we get pulled, I’ll pay the ticket.”

“About how far are you from the exit?” Amber asked.

“About twenty miles,” he said. “Give me ten minutes.”

“Ten?” Amber exclaimed. “Luke, don’t speed that fast. You’ll get killed!”

“It’s a straight road,” Luke said. “We’ll be fine.”

He gunned it, and I felt the car lurch as we took off.

Amber and Charlotte were quiet for a while, and all I could hope was that Brandy was second-guessing the situation. Maybe she would bail. Maybe she would turn her car back on and get out of there. It was too dangerous to do this, especially alone.

Luke’s knuckles turned white as he gripped the steering wheel, the speedometer rising higher and higher. I held on to the armrest beside me in the door. Usually, I hated when one of my brothers sped while I was in the car, but I would make an exception for today. This was important.

The signs for the exit were coming faster now, and we were making up a lot of lost time, but I was positive we were going to get pulled over. It would be the last thing we needed. Without Logan, we had no real advantages other than explaining everything that was going on, which would involve the police and significantly slow everything down.

I texted Logan, asking him if everything was still okay at the jail. He responded immediately, saying that it was, that Eugene and Trish were still there, both at desks fiddling around on their computers. Whatever was going on at the office park, it seemingly had nothing to do with either one of them.

My neck felt like it needed to be popped, so I twisted it. The release was momentary before the stiffness returned. The stress was building up on my shoulders and making me feel like a rod had been inserted down my spine from the top of my head. I wasn’t going to be able to take much more of this. I just wanted to get to the bottom of it and tell Brandy that it would be okay.

I’d made a decision. When this was over, no matter how it ended, I wasn’t going to just let Brandy go. I was going to fight for her. I was going to tell her how much she’d come to mean to me, even in this short amount of time. How I was a better person when I was around her, a more evolved person. I felt like I could move on with her, past the person I’d held on to for so long, past the trauma and the pain.

I could be me again with her.

But I had to convince her that she was worth it. That she wasn’t the problem all along. I had to figure out how to make her see what I saw. That she was a wonderful woman who had bad luck.

I tried to close my eyes. I was beginning to panic. I needed to keep myself calm. I needed to think…

I needed to keep myself calm. I needed to think.

The explosions had rocked the street, and my ears were ringing loudly. Pain shot through my belly, and my knee was on fire, but I didn’t dare look down to see if I was wounded. That would only add to the problem. If I felt like I could move, I could move.

I was shouting for other people, but I couldn’t hear myself. I could feel the vibration in my throat, but no sound other than the ringing was coming through. The explosion had been so loud, so close.

I got to my feet, ducking out of the cover of the truck that I’d taken, aiming my rifle ahead of me. The truck was on fire now. Everything was on fire now.

A man ran screaming out of a building, blood splattering on the ground below him. He was missing one of his arms. Running in circles, he slowed down and eventually fell. I couldn’t focus on him. He was already gone.

The sound started to come back slowly. As if I was underwater, the faraway sounds of gunfire, of more explosions, of people screaming… I could hear them all.

My team had been behind me, but they were gone. I doubled back, hoping they had just gone down the other street. I could find them, duck inside the truck, or hang on to the tank, and we could get the hell out of there. Screw the mission. We’d been set up.

I rounded the corner and stopped, blinking and trying to rationalize what I saw.

The truck was there, but it was in pieces. Fire burned from every piece, and there were bodies. Pieces of bodies.

I ran past them, heading to the tank, which I could see was just around the next corner, the back of it sticking out. It wasn’t moving anymore, but I didn’t see any fire. I shouted and shouted as I neared it, and eventually the top opened. A wounded soldier, one I remembered was named Red for his bright red hair, even as short as it was, popped out. He was bleeding from the head, the blood mixing with his hair and making it look like he was melting.

I climbed on the tank and yanked him out. I pulled him into the closest building, tucking him inside. No one else seemed to be there.

“There’s more,” he groaned. “Help them.”

I ran back to the tank, climbing up. A hand reached up to me, and I pulled it. Micah Young, a soldier I’d become friends with in basic, came out of the tank, wounded as well. His lacerations seemed to just be that. Cuts. It seemed that the tank had been targeted, but the damage was that it stopped cold, throwing everyone into the walls.

Another soldier came running up behind me. I recognized him as a guy from back home, Dwayne something. He was a good guy, as I recalled, and I’d been excited to see someone I knew when I got there. We hadn’t spent much time together since he drove tanks and I was relegated to pounding sand.

“I can drive this thing,” he said. “Get them out of here. There’s another truck coming!”

I nodded, hopping down and yanking the boys with me. Gunfire erupted over my head, and I provided cover fire for us, shooting wildly in the air. A face popped out of a building, an ancient Soviet rifle pointing down at me. I didn’t even blink.

He fell from the window and hit the sand below with a thud. Blood pooled around him.

The truck was almost there, and I sent Red and Micah along to it, running behind them. The tank was moving again, coming down the street and turning toward us. Dwayne had gotten it moving again. We were going to get the hell out, alive.

Then I heard it.

A baby’s wail in the building next to us. Red heard it too, and pulled on my shirt.

“Leave it!” he shouted. “Nothing we can do now!”

I brushed him off. I couldn’t do that.

I kicked in the door, aiming my rifle into the darkness and seeing nothing but a crowded, dark home. The crying was coming from deeper in the back. Without a second thought, I went toward it.

Another door opened, and I saw them. Two women and a baby. A man in the corner. He was strapping something to his chest.

Our eyes met. I had only a second to do what I needed to do.

I pulled the trigger.

The woman holding the baby dove in front of him, and the bullets riddled her body and his. The baby fell to the floor, landing on its rear end and tipping to its side as the two adults hit the ground. The thing strapped to his chest was blinking.

The other woman looked at me in terror. I realized she wasn’t a woman at all. She was a little girl. Probably thirteen or fourteen.

I pointed at the baby, and she jumped to cover it. Scooping it up in her arms, she shielded it from me, but I yanked her by the elbow and up to her feet. I pushed her ahead of me, running for the door. She seemed like she wasn’t running from the bomb. She was running from me.

She pounded out of the door, and I had almost reached daylight myself when the world exploded around me.

I woke up in terrible pain, covered in dirt and sand and blood. Adrenaline rushed through my body, and I climbed to my feet. Someone charged me from one side, screaming in another language and brandishing a revolver. I ducked instinctively as a bullet whizzed by me, and I tackled him. My gun was by my feet, and I scrambled for it, turning just as he aimed his gun at me.

We both fired.

Pain ripped through my shoulder, but I didn’t fall.

I ran. I could see the truck in the distance, and I ran for it. It stopped and I could see they were waiting for me. I was going to make it. I’d saved them, and I was going to make it.

Then I saw her. The little girl. She lay on the sand, red pooling around her head.

The baby screamed no more.

“Collin!”

A hand was on my chest, and I snapped awake. I grabbed at it and pulled it off me, not knowing where I was. I felt trapped, claustrophobic and terrified. Nothing was processing correctly. Nothing made sense.

Then it came into focus, slowly. I was in a truck. My back was pushed up against the window of the passenger’s seat, and Luke was driving. Jesse sat in the back, looking completely shocked.

I wanted to throw up. It had been the most vivid memory I’d had since months after I came back. I could still smell the sulfur and feel the gritty sand on my skin. It was so real.

“Sorry,” I panted. “Sorry. I was… I was…”

“Remembering,” Luke said. “I know. Before we left, Dwayne said he had those dreams too. He wondered if you had them. He said yours would be worse.”

I nodded.

“She’s gone in,” the speakerphone said.

“What?” Luke said. “Dammit, we’re still a few minutes out.”

“I’m going to go in after her,” Amber said.

“No. Absolutely not. Do not go in there.”

“Luke, I’m doing it,” she said with a rather bit of finality. “Come get me.”

The phone went dead, and Luke went white as a ghost. If we were speeding before, we were really cooking now.

The phone rang again, and I swiped it open.

“Owen?” I asked.

“Hey, just letting you know Amber went in. I’m going after her.”

“What about Charlotte?” Jesse asked.

“She’s still in the car,” Owen said. “She’s getting out now. We’re going after Amber.”

“Dammit, everyone needs to stop making terrible decisions!” Luke shouted. “I’m almost there! Just hold on!”

“The doors are locked,” Owen said a moment later, his voice rising. “What the hell? The doors are locked. I’m going to try other ones. Charlotte, come with me. We need to get in the building.”

“Collin, Jesse,” Luke said. “Hang on to your asses.”

The truck lurched again, and the speedometer topped out. We were either going to get there in record time or the truck was going to implode.

I didn’t care either way. I just wanted to know that Brandy was safe.

I looked down at my hands. The scar that ran all the way down my wrist and over my forefinger on my left hand seemed more visible than normal. My hands were shaking, but I could still make that scar out. It was almost as noticeable as the scars I wore elsewhere. Inside.

Not again. I wasn’t going to lose anyone again. If Luke could get me there, I’d make sure we all got out alive. Or at least everyone else.