Page 44 of A Brother's Secret

“Shit! Fuck! Goddammit, they’re gonna breach!” Rush shouted and I pulled on Kyle, dragging him out of his chair and to the floor, Dragon echoing the movement, just as whoever was outside opened up on the building with an automatic weapon.

Sparks and plastic shards flew from the equipment on Kyle’s desk. Shouting, screaming, some of it mine echoed in my ears that suddenly felt as if I was hearing everything from under water. A ringing took up in them and I shoved Kyledown.

Dragon and I made eye contact from across the cracked cement floor and I was galvanized. Action, we needed action or this was going to be much worse.

I think Kyle shouted, his fingers scrabbling over my jeans-clad leg, and slipping over the leather of the back of my boot. I got up into a low crouch and skittered across the floor and, breath pistoning in and out of my lungs, chest cramped hard with dread, I ducked out the swinging door and out into the yard and the blazing sun and shot the first man standing.

“Keep one alive!” Dragon shouted and he was next to me. The one I had shot went down like a felled tree, clutching his throat.

“Zeb is hit!” Rush screamed and an arrow whizzed, taking another man low, in the hip. He went down, eyes wide behind his ballistics mask clutching at the wound and I didn’t think I just acted. I scrambled low across the dirt and grabbed him by the shoulders of his vest and hauled him towards the open door behind me. Dragon was covering us, popping up from behind the hulk of car we’d rolled in front of the door in preparation for this and shooting. Rush and Zeb were behind two more we’d set up as a barricade, and while Zeb was on the ground, pale and panting, he was still reloading his gun, leaning out and firing.

The man I was pulling on was reaching for his gun and I dropped him, ripping off his mask and without thinking just started smashing him in the face and head with the butt of my daddy’s gun. He was trying to fight back, a glancing blow skidding along my cheek as the cacophony of gunfire raged around us. Some of the men in their tactical gear were folding like cheap paper, others falling back and ripping at their gear, surprised to find they weren’tdead.

The man and I struggled, his gun cleared the holster and I grabbed his hand, forcing it down, screaming in impotent rage that he just wouldn’t give up! He was forcing my hand, I couldn’t stop. It was him or me and I pointed the barrel of my dad’s gun down and pulled the trigger, his blood and brains painting the ground, my boots, and part of my pants leg in a sticky, crimson starburst pattern.

Hands grabbed me from behind and hauled me into the building and I screamed, turning the gun; my wrist was grabbed and forced up; the weapon went off, harmlessly away from everyone else, thank god; and Kyle’s face entered my vision. I stopped resisting and he pulled me inside, Dragon following, and I caught one order from the olderman.

“Let them advance!”

The trap was set, Kyle mouthed ‘trust me’ and I did; so I followed orders, I fell back, and even though it went against everything I stood for, I let the men take thelead…

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