Page 64 of All Saints Day
We're still about 100 feet from the front door when I hear the first tinkling of broken glass, the first reports of gunfire.
I'm relieved to see one of the black shining bodies of the soldiers limply draped over the pane of a broken window—his comrades slowing to a stop as they move in behind him.
I can hear Sébastien calling to Caz inside.
More gunfire sounds as two men attempt to break into the front door—a thick lilac-colored smoke pouring from the open door frame.
All the men in black begin coughing and bending double as they come into contact with the smog.
Dennis and I split off, rounding different sides of the cabin in an effort to meet up around the backside without breaching into the smoke bombs Seb has laid out for our unexpected visitors.
As soon as I crash through the back door. I am filled with the awful sight of Cazimer pinned to the ground by a fine metal mesh net—a man in body armor and dark glasses standing over him, his gun trained on Caz's head.
Luckily for both Caz and myself, the Windmill lackey isn'texpecting me, so when I round the corner, he barely has a chance to look up and see me before I put a bullet between his eyes.
As he drops to the floor, I free Caz from the netting, pressing the fallen minion's gun into Caz’s hand before we take cover beneath the kitchen table as a hail of gunfire rains in through the front window.
“Where's Louise?” I shout, but I can tell from the panicked expression on Caz's face that he doesn't know.
“She's not with you!?” he stammers.
I shake my head, then duck out from beneath the table to fire at a man aiming his gun through the blown-out front window.
Caz looks as if he's about to go to pieces, but we can't afford that right now.
“Don't panic,” I grip his shoulder and give it a firm shake. “If she wasn’t with you—then she's probably with Seb. He won't let anything happen to her,” I assure him. “Right now, the best thing that we can do is focus on getting ourselves out of here, out into the woods with a plan and a path for escape. The others will see us down the bond. They'll know what to do,” I explain with more confidence than I feel.
Caz bobbles a string of nervous nods and the two of us take stock of our surroundings, preparing to make our exit through the blown out back sliding doors—as it seems the bulk of the breach efforts are focused on the front entrance and the access to the bunker below.
Though none of us were particularly enamored with the idea of handing Frank back to the Windmill—regardless of our own intentions to bite him into the pack or not—he is considered more than an acceptable loss in exchange for getting out with Louise in tow.
Caz and I triangulate our path to escape as I reach down the mating bond to Seb.
I can see Seb and Dennis with Louise—they're pinned in the kitchen with the entrance to the cabin covered in Windmill stooges. I can hear the helicopter growing louder, butblessedly there's still a line from the back door to the trees that we can traverse, albeit under fire.
None of this looks good. I could send Caz on his own to make a run for it—or I could send him to back up the others while I make for the trees and potential safety, but that leaves only one of us to back Seb and Caz up.
If both of us stay here and all of us end up trapped along with Louise… Well then there would be no hope whatsoever.
I rack my brain trying to find another way.
Caz calls to me down the bond. None of the rest of us want to hear it, but his idea rings with truth—Frank is awake and locked in the bunker below. He also happens to be the best shot any of us have ever known.
We still have his sniper rifle and his handguns in our possession—everything he left with on the day we split ways at the yacht.
If he's for real, if Francis Castle really means to atone for his sins—now could be the time to prove himself.
Dennis calls down the line, his whole being alight with manic terror. “You can't possibly be thinking that using Frank is a good idea!”
“Unless you have a better one? I’m sending Caz to give you, Seb, and Louise up in the kitchen. I'll get down to Frank, get him his guns, set him up to pick off these goons to give us a chance at escape.”
“And what happens if he starts taking shots at us? At Louise?” Dennis challenges, his alpha aura oppressive down the bond.
“Neither Frank nor Rook wants to hurt Louise. The rest of us. I'm not so sure—but it's a risk I'm willing to take.”
There's the sound of a bullet whizzing past me, then the dry, splintering sound of it finding its home in the wall of the log cabin.
“There's no time to discuss this, Dennis. We need to move now.”
