Page 19 of Shattered

Bauer appeared out of nowhere, grabbed hold of Nate’s patient and tossed him over one broad shoulder. Ignoring the man’s screams, Bauer reached down, grasped Nate’s hand and yanked him to his feet before turning and running away.

Nate couldn’t leave the other crewmember. The smoke was so thick he couldn’t see. Holding his breath, he was forced to get on his hands and knees and blindly grope around for him. His left hand made contact with something. A leg. He gripped it, pulled, his lungs screaming in protest.

Nate thrust his other hand out and grabbed hold of the flight suit, started dragging his patient backward. Suddenly his burden lessened.

Forcing his eyes open, he found Vance beside him. Unable to speak or dare suck in a breath due to the smoke, Nate pulled with him, finally cleared the blistering heat zone. Vance helped him lift the patient. Nate stepped closer, leaned down so Vance could drape him over Nate’s shoulders, and together they hurried away.

Another small explosion went off behind them.

Hurry. Faster. He squinted through the smoke, tried to find a safe path, but it was impossible to see more than six inches in front of him. His lungs burned, screaming from the effort of holding his breath through the exertion.

Four steps later, they gave up the fight. His autonomic nervous system took over, expelling the air in his lungs, greedily sucking in a breath. Nate was powerless to stop it.

He choked, gasped, pulling more smoke in.

No air. Can’t breathe.

His foot caught on something, and the added weight of his patient took him down. His knees hit the ground, hard, his spine compressing with a searing pain in his lower back. Nate strangled a cry and maintained his hold on the unconscious man.

Get up. Get up, or you’ll die.

He bared his teeth and forced himself upward, struggled to his feet and staggered onward. A gust of wind cleared the smoke a little. Through the inky haze he spotted Vance heading back for him. And behind him, the rest of his teammates, running his way.

Nate shook his head, the only way he could communicate at this point. He didn’t want them coming any closer in case—

The ground shook, rolling under his feet as a huge explosion ripped outward.

Nate’s gaze was locked on Vance, closest to him but still too far away to help. His teammate’s eyes widened, a look of stunned horror on that dark, smoke-smeared face.

It was the last thing Nate saw. The force of the detonation sent him and his patient airborne. A searing wave of heat blasted over his body, hurtling him headlong into the waiting darkness.

Chapter Seven

Ethan Cruz grunted as the blast wave hit him, throwing him flat on his back in the dirt. Pushing up on his elbows, he shook his ringing head to clear it and looked up. The ringing was still there. He’d been running toward Schroder and Vance when the plane blew. The wreckage was now completely engulfed in flames. And between it and him…

Oh, God, no…

Vance was lying crumpled on his side in the distance, facing toward him. And beyond him, two more bodies were strewn on the ground, one of them Schroder.

He climbed to his feet and took off toward his closest fallen teammate, heart in his throat. Vance wasn’t only his best friend, he was the closest thing to a brother Ethan had ever had, and in a few months, would be his brother by marriage. Ethan refused to accept that he might lose him today, shoved down the panic welling inside him and tore across the open space between them.

Even this far from the wreckage the heat was intense, licking along his skin, the smoke searing his lungs and eyes. Vance wasn’t moving. His eyes were closed.

No. You can’t fucking be dead. I won’t let you.

Ethan grabbed him under the armpits and dragged him away, only stopping when he felt they were at a safe distance from the wreckage. He dropped to his knees beside Vance, grabbed hold of a solid shoulder and got right in his friend’s face. “Sawyer.Sawyer, can you hear me?”

No response.

Vance’s dark brown face was covered in blood, courtesy of a deep laceration in his scalp. The front of his uniform was soaked with blood too. And there was no telling what kind of internal injuries he might have. He and Schroder had been the closest to the explosion, would have taken the brunt of the blast wave.

God dammit.“Sawyer. Come on, you big bastard. Open your eyes and look at me.” His voice had a ragged, desperate edge to it that he couldn’t control. It terrified him to see his big, tough but laid-back friend lying so still and bloody.

Nothing.

He glanced up as Tuck and Bauer went flying past them toward where Schroder and the crewmember lay. Fuck, this was a nightmare.

Gripping the back of Vance’s neck, hard, he bent down so their faces were inches apart. “Vance. Youlookat me, dammit.”

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