Page 155 of Hell and High Water

Shots fire. We run.

Ora ducks to the side along the trail, dodging a black-clad brute in goggles. With unbelievable speed and flexibility, she twists under him, snatching his gun from its holster and pressing it to his thigh. Pop. Then his lower back. Pop.

My world upends for a second, and it takes me a minute to realize I doubled over, puking in the dirt. It’s too much.

All of this.

Ora’s at my side, shouting something in my ear, then we’re running again.

We’re all scattered a little apart, weaving through the trees, when more of Clive’s people catch us up, grizzled bikers swarming around us en masse.

Ora smiles, nodding encouragingly at me.

Until suddenly, a strange sound fills the air, a whistling, screaming sound.

“SCATTER!”

The explosion is fake. Nothing can be that destructive.

Dirt and God knows what else spatters down around me, on top of me as I scramble back away from the blast radius and the pile of tree trunks still falling several dozen yards from me.

Whatever it was put a crater in the forest that I can’t wrap my head around.

But it does register that I’m alone. Right before I see Gavin across the rift, looking around frantically, Tell and Evan staggering to their feet behind him.

“Hellena!”

“H–Here!” I start to scream, but a hand clamps down over my mouth. Panicked, I struggle until I hear a deep, rough voice.

“Chill, chill, missy. They’re right on top of us.” Clive. His orders register, and I still, looking around for signs of our enemies. Several of them holler nearby, silhouettes fanning out toward us.

Xavier stands with his back to a trunk beside me, eyes darting to and fro. The veteran looks tattered. Old.

But his stance, his steely gaze, is solid. Unbreakable.

He glances back toward where I saw my guys, my family, gesturing with his hand, several signs I don’t understand. “Alright. You’re with me, you got it?”

“Got it.”

“I’m going to get you back to your boys. Back to my Ora. When I say go, we go, clear?”

“Yessir,” I snap, rolling into a crouch. Something calm settles over me, leeching off the intractable man watching over me.

“Move!” he hisses, breaking cover.

I dash forward, staying low like Gavin taught me.

Shots clap off behind me, but I never stop. Never look back. Clive is breathing hard right on my tail, unloading his automatic weapon before swapping to his pistol. We run for what feels like minutes, an hour, but I know it’s much shorter.

But then there’s silence, or relatively so.

“Almost to the gate, just up—Ugh!” Clive grunts, and I turn back in time to catch him as he goes down.

“Clive!” I ease him down, noticing the first wound. The second.

He’s covered in blood.

“S’alright. Just need a minute.” Clive tries to sit up, slipping back down onto his back. “Well, fuck. Guess that’s that.”

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