Page 66 of Jericho

"Why is it always fucking me?" he growls, holding his arm to his chest.

"Unlucky fucking bastard," someone else mutters into the mic.

"How bad is it?" Hound asks. I know he isn't here, but he must be on a motorcycle outside of the house.

"Forearm," I say, helping Aro pull a bandage from his utility pants. "Shot came from the southeast."

"Got him," someone else says a few breaths later.

"You can go," he says to me.

"You're sure?" I ask, not wanting to leave a man down.

"Go get your son, man," he says after I help him get the bandage wrapped around his arm.

"How are you doing, Aro?" Hound asks through the mic.

"A lot less pain than getting my fucking leg blown off," he mutters, but despite what he's saying, I can see the pain in his eyes. "Slick is gonna kill me."

Laughter comes through the mics but it only lasts a second.

"Keep moving, Jericho," Hemlock says.

"Three left," Lark says. "Keep your eyes open. Two more and Gaines."

"Thanks, man," I say to Aro before keeping in a crouch and continuing my trek across the yard.

"Two left," someone else says.

My blood is pumping, and at this point, it's more than fear. It's the realization that the man who has haunted me every time I've looked in the mirror for the last eight years is soon goingto die. It's almost like that feeling of waking up on Christmas morning. You don't want to get out of bed because you're too excited but there's also a part of you that understands it may not live up to the expectations.

"It's okay, son."

My feet carry me faster.

"Where the fuck is he?" Damien growls.

I hear his voice through someone's mic.

"We're missing one," someone else says.

"I've got Gaines in the basement with the boy. He's got a device and the boy has what appears to be explosives strapped to his body."

"Be careful," Jersey says. "The bomb at location one was very fucking volatile."

"Where is he?" Damien growls again.

"He's on his way, motherfucker," Lark snaps. "Why don't you let the kid go?"

"The last one other than Gaines is down," Nyx says. "On my way to the basement."

Knowing I'm safe from gunfire right now, I lower my rifle and haul ass through the house.

Nyx and I meet right at the top of the basement stairs, but he doesn't hesitate to let me go ahead of him.

I lift the nose of my rifle as I inch lower on the staircase.

The basement is huge, the center of the room boasting a rather nice in-ground swimming pool.

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