23 Ford

Ford

Fucking Austin.

If I ever saw him again, I was going to kill him.

Kiss the hell out of him first, then kill him.

I couldn’t believe he did that to me.

I stood there blinking at the door after I figured out my shouting wasn’t doing a damn bit of good.

It took me way too long to give up and move away from the door I knew he wasn’t going to open again. He was lucky I didn’t go tumbling down those stairs and break my neck when he pushed me. Though, truthfully, the push hadn’t been that hard, and if I hadn’t been trying to play catchup to what he was saying to me, I might not have even stumbled back far enough for the stairs to be a threat.

There was nothing left to do but follow his directions.

I had to duck to keep from hitting my head against the top as I descended the stairs. The concrete walkway at the bottom was narrow and long, lit by small square light fixtures on the left side spread out every four feet. Eventually, I ended up in a room that couldn’t have been more than four hundred square feet, harsh lights greeted me from above, making the room feel cold and unpleasant. One side held cheap metal shelves, half full with all kinds of nonperishables from canned meats to pancake mix. Next to the shelf was a small metal table, the sturdy kind they used in industrial kitchens. The other wall held a cluster of bunk beds, their flat mattresses made my back protest with a small twinge at simply the thought of sleeping on them.

Between two sets of bunk beds was an opening for what looked like another hall.

There was another opening on the opposite side, but that one had a door. I spun, looking at the one I’d just walked through. Then swiveled my head back to the one between the bunks.

“Yellow,” I muttered when I noticed the thick border of mustard-colored paint around the entrance. The one I used held a green border.

Well, I knew where I was headed. Down the yellow to get out of this fucking bunker. If I’d heard him correctly, I’d end up in the barn.

I had a handgun with three extra clips stuffed into my pocket, and a rifle with very limited ammo. It wasn’t looking good.

With calm but quick movements, I searched the open bunker space and even behind the door, where I found a minimalistic bathroom.

There wasn’t anything of use. So I moved on, heading down the yellow hallway, which did not have lights lining the wall. I moved slowly, one hand on the wall, feet shuffling so I wouldn’t trip over anything. It felt like it took me forever as I stumbled around in the dark until I felt the cool, hard metal rungs of a utility ladder.

I wished I had something better than these stupid slippers.

With a sigh, I kicked out of them, then ditched my socks too. If I needed to run, I wouldn’t be able to do it in those. Hell, I didn’t think I’d be able to get up the ladder without them slipping off each wrung.

I wished I’d put on a pair of sneakers or some work boots.

The things you didn’t think about when under attack. From now on, I vowed to always be prepared. I was going to wear shoes even in the shower.

I snorted out loud at the thought. I bet Austin would have loved to hear how crazy I was going. The stiff agent was surely losing his shit.

And thinking about himself in the third person.

With a clearing shake of my head, I wrapped my hands around the rungs and began to climb. It didn’t take long before I found the hatch at the top, which I was able to push open without a problem. I had to question why there wasn’t a lock on this side.

Again, I cursed Austin under my breath.

Why did he even have this crazy bunker-slash-tunnel system?

Was he a prepper?

The thought gave me pause.

Would it matter if he was?

Quietly as I could, I pushed the hatch open again, tuning my ear to the sounds of what was ahead.

It was silent, only the sound of the wind slipping through the cracks of the barn above me.

I emerged in one of the back stalls. Before me sat some kind of covered vehicle, just like Austin had said. I gripped the cover and ripped it off, letting it fall to the floor behind me as I rushed to make sure the rest of the barn was clear. The inside of the barn was nearly black, only the blips of light shining in from the motion sensor lights on the corner of the house, which only seemed to mess with my mind as it seeped in through the cracks of the wood. Closing my eyes, I let my ears tell me what I couldn’t see. I didn’t hear any movement.

It was now or never.

Sliding behind the wheel, I found the keys where Austin said I would, right under the seat.

I hesitated, hand holding the key inches from the ignition.

He wanted me to go. To run. He gave himself up so that I could escape.

He could be dead already.

This was his sacrifice. Which meant that he didn’t want me to go back for him.

And as much as I should honor that, I wasn’t the type of person to leave someone behind.

He’d taken the choice away from me when he shut that door, locking me on the other side.

So I was going to take it back.

But I needed a plan. Which was going to be harder since I didn’t know what I was up against.

I slid out of the ATV and made my way to the back entrance of the barn on silent feet. The hinges whispered out a whine that I prayed went unnoticed. The house was far enough away that it should have been safe as long as no one had come looking in the barn.

I hid in the shadows, peering around the side until I had eyes on the house.

It was hard to make out what was going on, but I counted three SUVs. The front door was wide open. The way the light inside was flickering made me nervous.

Was the house on fire?

Shit!

I didn’t want Austin to lose the house. I sensed it was the only good thing from his childhood.

My feet were moving across the yard before I was fully aware of what I was doing. I swung the rifle off my shoulder, ready to shoot whoever got between me and Austin. Pebbles and sticks cut into the soles of my feet, but I didn’t stop.

I heard the deep boom of a male voice from around the side of the house. I ducked behind one of the SUVs as I tuned my ears into the conversation.

I dared a glance through the windows. Three men, one of them talking on the phone.

“No, he’s not here,” the front man said. “Just some guy. He knew how to fight, though. We’re down five.” There was a pause. His eyes scanned the area. I ducked back down. “There’s a barn… we’ll clear it. If he’s hiding, we’ll find him.”

Another pause and I felt like a trapped animal. So much for them leaving when they figured out I wasn’t in the house.

I tried to place them. It didn’t feel like they were FBI. I didn’t think they were assassins, most of them didn’t work in big groups. Mercenaries, maybe?

If Lipton was hiring mercenaries, he must have been beyond desperate to find me.

“Yeah, he’s still alive,” the man said, and I exhaled a soft breath in relief. “Thought we could interrogate him.”

My face went hard at his tone.

The kind of tactics they used for interrogation we’re not going to be the nice kind.

Austin might be alive now, but if they tortured him enough, he likely wouldn’t survive.

I dropped to the ground and crawled under the SUV, one slow inch at a time so I wouldn’t make noise. I felt like a damn turtle.

“Might be a while before he comes around,” the man said, his boots coming closer to the SUV I was hiding under. “There’s no need to threaten me. We’ll find him.”

There was a pause then a distinct unhappy grunt, giving me the feeling the conversation was over.

I held my breath as the gravel ground together under their shifting boots.

“Guy’s a fuckin’ prick,” a different voice said.

“Yeah, but that prick is paying us a lot of money to find this guy,” the first man said, no humor in his tone. “Let’s go clear the barn.”

“But the guy—”

“Is tied up and unconscious. It shouldn’t take us more than five minutes.”

There was a huff, then silence as I tracked four pairs of boots heading in the direction of the barn, one more than I’d counted before.

It wouldn’t be long before they figured out I had been in there. Damn me for leaving that stupid hatch door open.

I held my breath, listening to their fading footfalls until I could no longer make them out.

There was no hesitation as I rolled out from under the vehicle and got to my feet. I crashed into the front doorway, eyes wide as I saw the flames devouring the huge rug and licking up the walls around the fireplace. A dead body, half burned, was sprawled out in front of the fireplace. I scanned the area, seeing bodies, but none that looked like Austin. As I made my way to the kitchen, I could almost see how everything went down.

There he was, sprawled out on the floor in the mud room.

“Austin,” I said, dropping to my knees beside him.

His face was a mess. Swollen and bloody.

What the fuck had they done to him? It took everything in me not to run outside and slaughter them for doing this.

I grabbed a knife from the ground, ignoring the blood dripping off it, and cut him free of the tape they used to secure him.

“Austin,” I said again, willing him to wake up.