“What about Sutton? Do you see Sutton or Grady?” I scooted on my ass like she told me, but panicked as soon as I could no longer see what was happening down below.
“Too busy trying to keep that damn city slicker from getting full of holes. They’ve got eyes on him and are moving in his direction. He’s purposely pulling them away from the camp but it puts a target right on his back.”
“Not good.”
She snorted. “That’s an understatement, California.”
I was turning back around so I could peek my head over the rise of the rocks to what was going on, but I never got the chance. Before I could get situated, the sound of a man clearing his throat stopped me dead still. Nervously, I looked down and came face to face with a nasty black pistol aimed at my nose and a man dressed head to toe in black, complete with streaks of grease on his face, with his finger on the trigger
This definitely wasn’t part of the plan.
No Surrender, No Retreat
I opened my mouth to scream but I stopped myself from letting out the panicked wail that was working up my throat. I was startled and I was scared but I knew if I made a sound, Ten would come back over the ledge of the rocks with her rifle and this guy might shoot first and ask questions later. He smiled at me, which was terrifying considering the war paint obscuring his features. All I could see was a slash of white against the black, making him look like some kind of disturbing Halloween mask come to life.
He lifted the gun up to his lips and made a shushing noise and indicated he wanted me to slide the rest of the way down the rocks, as quietly as possible. Instinctively, I shook my head in the negative, which made him scowl and point the gun at me again. He used a finger to motion toward himself and I sucked in breath knowing that my options were limited. I could go back up the other side of the rocks but I didn’t want to distract Ten from keeping the entire marauding camp away from Webb while Cyrus got Em and Sutton out. Besides, the other side of the rocks was a straight drop off into nothing, so if the man followed me up and over, there would be nowhere for Ten and me to escape.
With the memory of Emrys’s blood-chilling screams ringing in my head, I slowly started to inch my way back down the rock face trying to make as little noise as possible. The man below kept the barrel of his gun pointed right at me, which made the descent even more nerve wracking than it already would have been. He watched me, unwaveringly, and that odd grin on his face never faded.
When I was almost halfway down, palms stinging and raw, the back of my jeans shredded from scooting my backside on the rocks, and the insides of my cheeks torn and bloody from chewing on the inside of my cheeks to keep quiet, I made a decision.
I decided that I had to do something . . . anything. I couldn’t hand myself over to this unknown threat after everything everyone else had done to get Em and Sutton out of danger. I was not going to be the reason this mission went twenty steps backwards and I didn’t care what that meant for me, as long as everyone else made it home safe. I wasn’t anywhere close to being a hero, but today, for the people I cared about, I could pretend to be.
Since I was sitting on the rocks and using my hands and feet to slowly inch my way down the rough surface, I was facing outward and happened to be in the perfect position to launch myself forward like a wrestler off the ropes. It meant letting go of my iron grip on every handhold I could find and it meant forgetting how deathly afraid of heights I was. It meant putting the woman who ran from everything that scared her to bed once and for all. It meant fully embracing the woman who could and would put everything on the line, even if it meant losing it all.
There was no guarantee that the man with the gun wouldn’t pull the trigger as soon as I pushed myself off the rocks. He could have a bullet in my chest before I made contact with him, but then at least Ten would have some warning as to what was going on down below. I wanted to take the man by surprise. I wanted to catch him unaware and maybe knock him off his stance enough that he would lose his grip on the gun. I wanted to level the playing field just a little bit and honestly, I wanted to put a knee in his balls as hard as I could for scaring me and for pointing a gun right at my face. I was over tip-toeing around the things I found threatening and intimidating.
I gave myself a second to breathe. I sucked in the mountain air, tuned out the sound of bullets ricocheting off of rocks and trees, and told myself that everything about this trip had been about making moments that mattered. This moment was make it or break it. It would either help save the day or end in a tragedy of epic proportions. There was no more playing it safe and keeping harm at arm’s length. It was time to jump feet first into the fire and let all the old fear and hesitance burn away. It was time to be the phoenix that rose from the ashes as something fierce and ferocious. It was time to fly because I was done sinking.
Swallowing back the scream that was lodged in my throat, I pushed off the rocks with both my hands and feet. I was immediately airborne with the ground and the startled man in the greasepaint rushing toward me. I heard him call out, “What in the hell! Crazy woman!” but it was too late. I was flying, falling, careening right for him and there wasn’t enough time for him to get out of the way or pull the trigger.
“Son of a bitch!” He barked out the words loud enough that I knew there was no way Ten wouldn’t hear them. But much to my surprise, as I hurdled toward him, he let the gun fall to the ground at his side and reached his hands up. He acted like he was going to catch me and stop my wild freefall.
I fell fast, so when I hit him it was like running into a brick wall that was reinforced with concrete. The impact was enough to send the hat on my head flying. He was a big man, not as big or as tall as Cy, but wider and stockier. He took the brunt of my quickly moving weight without losing his footing. He wrapped his arms around me as I swung wildly the moment I got my bearings. My tattered and torn nails dug into every sensitive spot I could reach and I tried to kick at him but the effort was wasted as the toes of my boots hit hard leather. The guy was dressed in some kind of tactical gear that might as well have been a suit of armor.
“Too busy trying to keep that damn city slicker from getting full of holes. They’ve got eyes on him and are moving in his direction. He’s purposely pulling them away from the camp but it puts a target right on his back.”
“Not good.”
She snorted. “That’s an understatement, California.”
I was turning back around so I could peek my head over the rise of the rocks to what was going on, but I never got the chance. Before I could get situated, the sound of a man clearing his throat stopped me dead still. Nervously, I looked down and came face to face with a nasty black pistol aimed at my nose and a man dressed head to toe in black, complete with streaks of grease on his face, with his finger on the trigger
This definitely wasn’t part of the plan.
No Surrender, No Retreat
I opened my mouth to scream but I stopped myself from letting out the panicked wail that was working up my throat. I was startled and I was scared but I knew if I made a sound, Ten would come back over the ledge of the rocks with her rifle and this guy might shoot first and ask questions later. He smiled at me, which was terrifying considering the war paint obscuring his features. All I could see was a slash of white against the black, making him look like some kind of disturbing Halloween mask come to life.
He lifted the gun up to his lips and made a shushing noise and indicated he wanted me to slide the rest of the way down the rocks, as quietly as possible. Instinctively, I shook my head in the negative, which made him scowl and point the gun at me again. He used a finger to motion toward himself and I sucked in breath knowing that my options were limited. I could go back up the other side of the rocks but I didn’t want to distract Ten from keeping the entire marauding camp away from Webb while Cyrus got Em and Sutton out. Besides, the other side of the rocks was a straight drop off into nothing, so if the man followed me up and over, there would be nowhere for Ten and me to escape.
With the memory of Emrys’s blood-chilling screams ringing in my head, I slowly started to inch my way back down the rock face trying to make as little noise as possible. The man below kept the barrel of his gun pointed right at me, which made the descent even more nerve wracking than it already would have been. He watched me, unwaveringly, and that odd grin on his face never faded.
When I was almost halfway down, palms stinging and raw, the back of my jeans shredded from scooting my backside on the rocks, and the insides of my cheeks torn and bloody from chewing on the inside of my cheeks to keep quiet, I made a decision.
I decided that I had to do something . . . anything. I couldn’t hand myself over to this unknown threat after everything everyone else had done to get Em and Sutton out of danger. I was not going to be the reason this mission went twenty steps backwards and I didn’t care what that meant for me, as long as everyone else made it home safe. I wasn’t anywhere close to being a hero, but today, for the people I cared about, I could pretend to be.
Since I was sitting on the rocks and using my hands and feet to slowly inch my way down the rough surface, I was facing outward and happened to be in the perfect position to launch myself forward like a wrestler off the ropes. It meant letting go of my iron grip on every handhold I could find and it meant forgetting how deathly afraid of heights I was. It meant putting the woman who ran from everything that scared her to bed once and for all. It meant fully embracing the woman who could and would put everything on the line, even if it meant losing it all.
There was no guarantee that the man with the gun wouldn’t pull the trigger as soon as I pushed myself off the rocks. He could have a bullet in my chest before I made contact with him, but then at least Ten would have some warning as to what was going on down below. I wanted to take the man by surprise. I wanted to catch him unaware and maybe knock him off his stance enough that he would lose his grip on the gun. I wanted to level the playing field just a little bit and honestly, I wanted to put a knee in his balls as hard as I could for scaring me and for pointing a gun right at my face. I was over tip-toeing around the things I found threatening and intimidating.
I gave myself a second to breathe. I sucked in the mountain air, tuned out the sound of bullets ricocheting off of rocks and trees, and told myself that everything about this trip had been about making moments that mattered. This moment was make it or break it. It would either help save the day or end in a tragedy of epic proportions. There was no more playing it safe and keeping harm at arm’s length. It was time to jump feet first into the fire and let all the old fear and hesitance burn away. It was time to be the phoenix that rose from the ashes as something fierce and ferocious. It was time to fly because I was done sinking.
Swallowing back the scream that was lodged in my throat, I pushed off the rocks with both my hands and feet. I was immediately airborne with the ground and the startled man in the greasepaint rushing toward me. I heard him call out, “What in the hell! Crazy woman!” but it was too late. I was flying, falling, careening right for him and there wasn’t enough time for him to get out of the way or pull the trigger.
“Son of a bitch!” He barked out the words loud enough that I knew there was no way Ten wouldn’t hear them. But much to my surprise, as I hurdled toward him, he let the gun fall to the ground at his side and reached his hands up. He acted like he was going to catch me and stop my wild freefall.
I fell fast, so when I hit him it was like running into a brick wall that was reinforced with concrete. The impact was enough to send the hat on my head flying. He was a big man, not as big or as tall as Cy, but wider and stockier. He took the brunt of my quickly moving weight without losing his footing. He wrapped his arms around me as I swung wildly the moment I got my bearings. My tattered and torn nails dug into every sensitive spot I could reach and I tried to kick at him but the effort was wasted as the toes of my boots hit hard leather. The guy was dressed in some kind of tactical gear that might as well have been a suit of armor.
