Page 3 of Cyclone

“Got it,” he replied, weapon raised.

I signaled sister Jude to keep the women down. “Stay put.” I whispered. She crouched low beside them, her expression serious for once. No sarcasm. Just focus like she'd done this before.

Another mark in thewho the hell is this womancolumn. What is wrong with me? She’s a nun.

I stepped into the foliage, rifle up, heart steady. I wasn’t worried for me. I was worried forthem.

Then I saw it.

A tripwire.

I froze.

“Bomb?” Faron asked behind me.

“No. Flare.” I carefully disabled the trigger. “They’re tracking. Close.”

Jude appeared behind us—because of course she did—ignoring my whispered “Stay put.”

“Didn’t you hear me?” I hissed.

“I heard you. But I also heard boots about thirty yards out. Multiple pairs. Heading this way.”

Faron and I exchanged a look.

“How the hell do you know that?” I asked.

She just smiled. “You’re not the only one with ears, soldier.”

We moved fast—broke camp in under one minute. The nuns were quiet and obedient, except the one with the handmade spear. Sister Jude helped one of them strap on a backpack like she’d done it a thousand times.

She looked at me across the flickering shadows. “They’re gonna catch us if we keep this pace.”

“Any bright ideas, Sister?”

She smirked. “Ever jumped off a cliff into a river before?”

Faron groaned. “Why do I feel like that’s not a metaphor?”

Ten minutes later, “Ihatethis plan,” I growled.

“You hate all plans that aren’t yours,” Sister Jude said, already tying a vine around a branch to use as a swing rope.

She didn’t wait.

She just jumped.

A flash of dark hair, the shout of “WOOOOO!” as she disappeared over the edge, and then—splash.

I stared at the spot where she’d vanished.

“She’s not a nun,” I muttered. “She can’t be.”

Faron patted my shoulder. “Of course she is?”

I jumped in after her. Then the other nuns jumped behind me, and then Faron jumped last.

The second my body hit the water, the world exploded into chaos.

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