Page 33 of Court of Evil

We have to get out of here.

We have completed eighty missions, and we have not failed a single one. This will not be the first.

We are going home, all of us.

We have to.

I return fire, then I wait until they have to reload and dive for the next crumpling building. Ronan is turned away from me, so I cup his shoulder. “Come on, we have to get out of here,” I snarl. When he doesn’t reply, I pull his helmet off and freeze as he falls towards me, lifeless.

His eyes are open and empty, and his hands are covered in blood. As I glance down, I see the bullet holes across his chest.

Ronan is dead.

My best friend is dead.

“Ro—” I gasp as bullets rain down on my hiding spot. They are intent on wiping us out. Swallowing, I glance over the hard-packed dirt and see my team.

Henry is still reaching for his gun, cut down while doing so.

Ezra’s body is huddled where he was hunkering down, waiting to return fire.

Joe was caught trying to get to me, his commander.

Dead.

They are all dead.

My entire unit is gone.

My friends, my brothers, the ones who have been with me since I was a child . . . they are gone.

I become cold and empty at the sight as something inside me shuts down and gives up. I should get out of here to report back then help collect their bodies, but none of it matters.

I do not want to live without them.

Turning back to Ronan, I press my forehead to his. “I’m sorry, brother. In this life or the next, we will be together again.” Without much thought, I stand, leaving my gun behind.

I do not need it anymore.

Stepping out into the barrage of bullets, I stare them down.

Everyone else is dead.

I am all that is left.

A fury like no other fills me and explodes outward, washing the ground clean.

I jerk awake, my body covered in a cold sweat.

Rubbing at my face, I shudder in horror, the memory clinging to my skin before the noise comes again, the one that pulled me from my nightmares and memories.

It’s a hunting alert, a sound I know better than my own heartbeat.

They always come here first, unless it’s an imminent threat, and I grab my phone to scroll through the report summary so I can assign it to a team before I stop.

Shit, this one is a threat, but it is also an opportunity.

Scrambling from my bed, I make it to the door when the alarm sounds, alerting the entirety of Stalkers’ Rest to the emergency dispatch to deal with the danger. Usually, I’d be out there with them, barking orders, but I sprint down the corridor and burst into Tate’s room.

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