Page 56 of Gravel and Grit

The shots didn’t stop, but they slowed, and the chips of wood raining down on her ceased, meaning they weren’t aiming at her hiding spot anymore.

Forcing herself to uncurl from the ball she was huddled into was one of the hardest things she’d ever done. She dropped to her stomach and quickly peeked around the corner, getting the soldiers’ locations, then pulled back.

Remembering where they were standing, she peeked again, took aim, then fired. She missed her first two shots, her shaking hands throwing off her aim, but her third hit, and another soldier dropped.

Count your shots. You have eighteen darts in the tranq gun. Thirteenbullets in the handgun.

How the hell was she supposed to count while under fire? Had she fired six times? Seven? More?

She didn’t get the chance to fire again.

A booted foot came around the corner of the wall and kicked her hand so hard she felt a bone crack, and the tranq gun went flying. A short scream of pain tore from her throat, and she cradled her hand against her chest.

She didn’t have time to brace before the soldier attacked her. He kicked at her again, aiming for her head that time, but she managed to block most of the blow with an arm. She didn’t manage to block or even lessen the kick he gave her ribs though. Her breath exploded out of her in a grunt. The kick was so hard it lifted her off the floor and slammed her back into the wall. Pain was like fireworks, spreading through her body and paralyzing her for a second.

Zaek’s grappling lessons kicked in sluggishly, agony and fear making it hard to think, but she caught his leg on the fourth kick and held on, trying to block out the stabbing pain radiating from her ribs and hand. As soon as she felt him tip backward, her weight and grip throwing him off balance, she surged toward him with a low cry and pushed him into the unforgiving wood wall with all her strength.

She forgot she was stronger now.

The thud as his helmeted head struck the wall and the feeling of his body going limp under her made her stomach roll, but she pushed to her feet and lunged back to press against the wall, taking cover. She waited for the next attack, straining to listen over her thundering heart so she’d have some

warning.

A crash sounded from the direction of the bedroom farther down the hall, followed by a thud.

They’re coming in through the window!

The tranq gun was five feet away, but to get it she’d have to get closer to the bedroom. Pulling the handgun from the holster with a cringe, she held it in her uninjured, left hand and flicked off the safety. She couldn’t shoot worth a damn left-handed, despite Zaek trying to train her to use both, but her right was broken.

Peeking around the corner revealed a foyer piled with bodies, but there was no movement, no one waiting to blow her apart. Taking the opening, she ran around the corner and into the kitchen, the gun raised just in case she was running into an ambush.

The door burst open before she could reach it. Instead of firing as she should have, Mira skidded to a stop, her arms flailing to keep her from falling and her gaze glued to the barrel of the gun aimed at her head.

He didn’t fire immediately.

She stood stock still, her only movement the rapid rise and fall of her chest. She didn’t dare raise the gun again. She wouldn’t be able to get off a shot before he killed her.

Trembling hard, she followed the barrel up to the face of the man holding it. Recognition was slow in coming, but when it did, she sucked in a shuddering breath. It was Luke, one of the men that guarded the underground lab. He was the one that asked if she was okay when the beacon beeped that first time. The thought that she’d be killed by someone she knew, even if just as a passing acquaintance, was horrifying.

All the soldiers had just been faceless, nameless enemies until that second.

“You-your name is Luke, right?” she stuttered breathlessly, desperate to delay the inevitable.

Her heart was pounding so hard it actually hurt as she slowly backed away from him, sliding her feet back one inch at a time. If she could get to the living room before he fired, she could maybe dive behind the couch for cover.

Darting a quick look past his shoulder, she expected to see more men behind him waiting to kill her, but no one was there, just dark night and an empty stretch of ground between the cabin and the treeline. He was the last

one. He must have thrown something through the window to herd her this way, directly to him.

Surprise flickered behind his cold, brown eyes before he grimaced and reluctantly nodded.

“Ya know, they say it’s harder to kill someone when you know their name, but they’re wrong. It’s harder when they know your name,” he said almost conversationally as he slowly advanced on her.

“I can see h-how that familiarity might make it hard to murder someone in cold blood,” she croaked, horrified at his confession. “So, you’re definitely here to kill us.”

Please Zaek, please get here.

“Yup. Shame, too. I always liked you. Smart, cute as fuck. I was actually workin’ up the courage to ask you out,” he admitted with a smile she was sure most women found charming.

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