Page 22 of Breaker

“I think I remember a helicopter or something,” Striker says. “I vaguely remember a loud engine before passing out again.”

My brows knit, the fabric sucking into my mouth as I breathe. There’s a tight knot forming in the center of my chest. It feels like panic. I swallow, trying to gulp down the fear with it.

This isn’t the first time we’ve been carted off for a training mission, but this is the first time we’ve been blindfolded andbound, unable to see where Maxim was taking us to train that day. Sometimes it was just in the large range near the school, other’s it was well past the town, in dark, dense woods where he taught us to set up snares.

Try as I might, I don’t remember Fallon or Maxim mentioning any training. They’ve been so focused on Reaper and Hunter’s first mission, and the chaos that broke out afterward, to pay us much mind the last few days. I do remember Commander Maxim’s gleaming eye patch as he crowded me, getting in my face, but it all just kind of goes black.

“He drugged us,” Striker says. There’s a thud from behind me like he kicked the tailgate. “And I have no clue where the fuck we are, but I really have to piss.”

Viper makes a huffing noise. “I already did.”

Striker gags. “Gross.”

The truck breaks hard, coming to an abrupt stop. I skid, my whole body lurching then sliding back, slamming into Striker behind me. He grunts. Cold wetness seeps into my shoulder.

“Fuck man,” I say. “Viper.”

“Nature called while I was knocked out. Not my fault.”

A male voice, harsh and gravelly breaks through the air. I don’t recognize it, so it’s not someone from the school.

“Get them out. We need to get the fuck out of here before it begins.”

“What begins?” Viper shouts. He’s always been better at picking up Russian than Striker or me. “Hey!” he calls to the voice. “Want to tell us—“

A loud thwack, like a hand hitting metal rings in the air, making my body tense. Whoever has us just slapped the tailgate. I know that sound. I heard it enough times when Cook would load us into the back of his big truck and we’d all head to the village for the afternoon.

“Fucking kid pissed himself,”someone else says, another faceless voice in the language I can barely pick up.“I’m not touching that one.”

“Maybe if you guys had not fucking—“ Viper grunts, then heaves out a cough like he’s been hit in the gut. “Get your fucking hands off me,” he yells, but the words are cut short, then there’s a thud followed by a gravelly groan.

Striker’s enraged voice fills the air. “Fuck off,” he shouts then another thud. Someone grabs my arm and one thigh and I’m airborne. I hit solid ground with painful smack, banging my head on a soft body.

Viper makes another choking sound.

“Fuck man,” he grates. “That was my nuts.”

Before I can finish the thought that this is all outside our normal training, one of the men grab my hands, kicking my heart rate up higher and I feel cold metal against my wrist as the rope’s cut away. Instantly, I move to sit up, but a brutal kick to my side makes me fall back, pain shooting sharply through my ribcage.

“Asshole,” I wheeze, but remain still. I’m a quick learner and I know I don’t want another boot to the ribs.

Behind me, the truck doors slam, and tires screech, dirt and rocks spitting up and hitting my back as the sound of the truck lurching forward drowns out Viper’s shouts.

When the sound of the engine fades, I sit up and tear my hood off. Next to me, Viper lies on his side, bound and blindfolded. Behind me, Striker’s curled into a ball, shoulders moving like he’s…

Crying?

“I can’t get these fucking knots undone,” he hisses.

My shoulders ease, realizing he’s trying to untie himself. I shift to my knees, ignoring my sore muscles, and the pain in myribcage, and rip first Striker’s then Viper’s hoods off. They both blink, looking up at me in the bright light as their eyes adjust.

“How’d you get free?’ Viper asks. “Never mind. Just untie us.”

I reach for my knife I keep clipped to my belt, but it’s not there.

“Left boot,” Viper says. “I always keep one tucked away in case.”

I untie his boot and find the little knife and pull it free. After I cut them free, they sit, rubbing their wrists and looking around.

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