Page 25 of Remade

“You’ve been hurt,” I stated, panic rising within me. I couldn’t fucking afford panic now; it took all my energy to tune out screaming, gunfire, and people yelling orders in three different languages. The fires were getting to me too. Too much movement, all while the blinding light—and the heat—made it harder to spot enemies.

“I’m fine,” he slurred.

I shook my head and stepped closer to him after throwing a quick glance around. Ryan and Crew were handling things for the moment.

“Get…get to safety, pup. Get to safety.”

Without asking, I grabbed at Beckett, and I didn’t have to look long. I stared at my hand, seeing all the blood… He’d been shot in his arm? That was why he was struggling to lift his carbine? But his leg?—

Oh God, he’d been injured there too. The side of his thigh was glistening black, and I was planting my hand there before I could even decide to. He flinched and cursed right away, and it shot fear and rage through me.

“Get down!” I yelled at him. “You’re losing blood!” He couldn’t be hurt, he couldn’t be hurt, he couldn’t be hurt. I wouldn’t be able to handle it. He had to be okay. I didn’t wait for him to respond, instead spinning around to Crew and Ryan. “Someone, reach out to Coach or whoever the fuck! Beckett’s been hit!”

One of the enemies had come at me with an old pistol earlier, and the bullet had grazed my headset. I couldn’t contact anyone.

“We’ve taken a lot of hits, kid,” Ryan reported grimly, never lowering his carbine. “Transport’s on its way, but it’s gonna be awhile. Put pressure on his wound if he’s at risk for bleedin’ out. Crew, your nine o’clock.”

Nausea crawled up my throat, and I spun around to Beckett once more, only to see he’d slipped down to sit on the grass. I was there in a flash, kneeling next to him, and I grabbed at his face.

“Beckett—don’t you fucking dare,” I said. “Stay awake.”

His eyelids fluttered a little, but it was as if they were too heavy.

“Bo!” This wasn’t fucking happening. He wasn’t bleeding out on me. I couldn’t lose him. I dug out my first aid kit as fast as I could and retrieved two packs of Celox Rapid to stop the bleeding.

“Watts, we need you here!” Crew shouted.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” I panted. With zero finesse, I forced the dressing into the hole in his clothes, and I pressed down on the wounds one by one. It brought Beckett enough pain to jolt him awake with a hoarse groan. “Press here, goddammit!”

I was out of time. I gripped my gun again, shot to my feet and joined Crew’s side, and I fired at whoever I saw running toward us.

“How many are left?” I demanded. “The other side was almost empty when Beckett and I ran over here.”

“I don’t fucking know at this point—it’s like they’re dropping off entire units.” Crew reloaded quickly and got back to work. “Alpha, Bravo, Charlie, Delta, perimeter watch—report back!”

“Hyatt, are you with us? Coach!” Ryan snapped. “Say again?”

“They’re running away,” Crew barked out. He pointed at three or four men on the other side of the flames, and we didn’t hesitate. Clearly thinking the same thing, he and I bolted after them. “Finlay and Watts in pursuit of four targets running along the eastern perimeter.”

We’d been told to wipe them all out.

I wasn’t leaving until the job was done. Until the man who’d ordered Beckett’s brother’s murder was dead.

We saw several bodies across the lawn, some in the dying flames, but they didn’t look like our guys.

“The bunker was fucking bait,” Crew gritted out. “Finlay here. How many are hit? Over.”

Something started happening to me while we ran for our lives. Or maybe it’d started a while ago. It felt like time slowed down at the same instant as we went faster and faster. I barely registered my shoes hitting the ground. What I did register were faces in my mind. Shay stood there with his arms folded over his chest, his piercing eyes sending silent reminders of how I should defend myself and overpower an enemy. Ryan stood next to him, his presence representing the new path that lay ahead. The stakes were higher. I had family to get to know. And Beckett… He appeared on the other side of Shay, strengthening my resolve. Nothing could happen to him. I needed him in my life. I needed him to pull me close again. He had to recover.

Fight, pup. Don’t ever fucking quit. You hear me?

I hear you.

I gnashed my teeth and sped up, and Crew and I broke through the tree line. The air was so much cleaner and cooler away from the flames, but the utter darkness put me on edge. We didn’t have the time to let our eyes adjust.

“Copy,” Crew panted, then promptly grabbed hold of my arm and yanked me back. “Watch out!”

What was—holy fuck! Before I could finish my thought, the area in front of us lit up with a spray of fire, and my heart jumped up in my throat. Blazing heat smacked me in the face. I thought we’d killed all the fuckers with flamethrowers!

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